Time Travelers and the Blank Page

Presently, The present self is tensely thinking of self through time. A Time traveler perhaps? Like all Humans. Sitting here watching the future run around the yard. Buzzing, And humming. Dancing on tip toe. The younger chasing the older. Roots, Branches, or strings of web. All vibrate with life. 

What will my children learn? I suppose it's the things I never intended to teach. Words tell stories. Children see what you do. The words beneath the words, and the tween spaces. They breathe with intention. How to teach without words? How to teach word?. How to listen, really listen. Exhibit and practice what is hard for me to feel. Until this future self can look through time with compassion, acceptance. Just a time and place. Just a cloud.   

Grief. Loss. Death. These things easy to understand the pain of. But what of the pain  of daily deaths? The grind of following habit into the next day. Numb. Then striving. All to nothing. Over again. The day resets and here we are again. Driving the car to the place that has my paycheck. Not so bad. Just a place to be. Can I really be here? 

What lesson have I taught? What is there for me to learn? Trying to find inner peace by learning the details of the outer world. Placing hands. Learning by feel. This fabric, that thread. This moment of sadness in my child's eye and my inattention that proceeded it. A penny for your thoughts, a dollar for your hour, and tell me sweet lady how much for your life? These notions passing from thought to hand to live in the world. 

To be a maker. I have crafted this life. The shadows and light. The place and time. Yet, I myself am crafted and it is just paradoxical turtles all the way down. 

The circles we create. The lines we draw. The ashes of love buried in the dirt. The things we unmake. The pretty baskets hold the laundry that will likely never get folded. But it's okay, it's pretty and other there are other unfoldings happening at the moment. Here we are again. A pile of mending, and littles to be tending. Hold the circle. The line will fade in time.

I go each morning to the alter or rather my dresser but same thing. To give thanks, praise and write a few words. They are usually of gratitude. Funny how hard it can be to see the good. Even when the good is very abundant. It's practice and daily we do it. Like the dishes, and the laundry(well sort of, I'm very proud of the pretty basket workaround). The wheel turns and we with it. Well the wheel of time has spoken and my time at the blank page needs to be done.   

Farewell Blank Page! Till I see ye again.