"Thoughts, rest your wings.
Here is a hollow of silence,
a nest of stillness, in
which to hatch your dreams."
~ Joan Walsh Anglund
Home is undeniably my haven, my nest, and the place I seek refuge from most things that weigh me down or trouble me. It's the place in which I seek solace and inspiration as well. I love the visual of resting my wings. I have created a home using a palette of white neutrals with less and less black accents over time. I am not sure I did this consciously, but intuitively I think I did it with a knowing(ness) from within me that acknowledges I needed a purer and gentler space to enter back into each day to rest. I close my eyes and I see myself in my mind's eye and I am collapsed (draped really) across my long, white down sofa with my own pair of white feathery wings outstretched in exasperation. Can you see me? Those of you who know me well, know I have a flair for the dramatic... For me, I energize by becoming very still. It took me a few decades to embrace that it's okay to sometimes do nothing. In fact, in doing so, you actually are working on something... YOU!
I'm absolutely alone today without distraction, commitments, or people coming and going. God must have known I needed this hollow of silence today for my daughter left our home at five am to return to New York. As I have openly admitted, I hate her departures. I find myself thinking about her leaving and my tears leak out days before she actually gets on a plane. I know. It's a bit twisted. But, (I think) therapists call it "anticipatory grieving". I tell myself it's healthy because it has a clinical name. Unfortunately, it doesn't make the process any easier. I woke up this morning (after quietly crying myself to sleep) feeling as if I had stuff missing on the inside. The idea of breakfast wasn't at all appealing until about eleven o'clock, at which time I made myself eat a cup of bland oatmeal and washed it down with some OJ for sustenance. How grateful I am to be gifted an entire day without even the intrusion of a doorbell or phone call. God giveth and He taketh away...
Hollows can be empty, sunken... and sometimes I think I like that. The dark angel within me is given permission to emerge and melt into my melancholy. Suddenly I am part of the contrast to all of this glowing French white paint that surrounds me and is just too radiant for a day like today. There is something so cathartic about giving yourself consent to sulk. I can only truly do this comfortably when I'm alone and don't have to apologize or feel guilty about moping, not showering or even getting properly dressed for the day. You get the picture. I know, it's not at all pretty or brave. I am secretly overjoyed my husband flew out today on business. He means well, but even he makes it difficult to find my bearings sometimes. He doesn't share my need for aloneness. In his absence, I am pardoned of conversation and even smiling and nodding if I don't feel like it. I like that absolutely nothing is required of me today.
It's almost six pm. Where has the day gone? Some might consider today a waste. A pity party you say? Nay, I know better... I have given myself permission to just be. To dwell for a bit in the dark, allowing myself to think about why my heart hurts so much when Megan leaves? To then again remember it's because she's so wonderful and recount all the reasons why. Today I allowed myself the opportunity to whine aloud asking, "Why can't she go to school in California like her cousin?" I smile because I already know the answers to that question, but it feels good to whine anyway. Within my nest of stillness and silence I have prayed and meditated, asking for peace, comfort and acceptance for what is, remembering to give thanks for what isn't. I have even worked a bit today, but at my own pace. I've cried and I've smiled, planned, envisioned, dreamed, and renewed. Tomorrow I will emerge stronger for all of it, ready to face the busyness and what the world requires of me beyond the safety of these doors. Today was not an obligation. I loved that. I needed it. In my quest for balance in 2013, I am learning I need more repose in my life... in my soul. Sometimes a perfect day is filled with nothingness. I think I am going to calender in more do nothing days this year... simply because I can.
