Every year in early Spring, false Spring really as it’s late January or early February, the robins come. Thousands upon thousands of robins. I don’t know where they are coming from or where they are going, but the 48 hours of robin mayhem up here each year is a kind of delight I can hardly bear– it is just so sweet and magical…and every year I forget, so every year when they arrive it thrills me like a miracle…I talk of miracles a lot and THIS is what I mean…
And the miracle of a baby born severely addicted to street drugs via his struggling mother and placed in our care for a short time while he found his way through, this tiny, helpless, suffering human whose goodness, depth and awareness still shone through—you should have seen him as we walked in the forest—true bliss and amazement on his face and I don’t even think he could see the forest, I think he was feeling it; being bathed in the majesty of it…we are all born so awake and alive that amazement is our main experience of Life—over time we break it down into named feelings and experiences and often also dull down to cope with the emotional voids of our communities…bless us all, as the flavor of 2022 emerges, I hope the deep re-weave of AMAZEMENT continues…I think surrender and amazement are necessary bedfellows…
And here at PrayerFarm life goes on and on and on; most of the madrone and hawthorne berries have now been eaten by hungry birds, tender shoots of soon-to-be daffodils are tucking up from below, most of our sunlight is coming from the bounce of rays across the hills as we continue to feel that this is indeed still the dark season…stay tucked in folks, devote yourselves to rest with the same diligence you attend to work and actions…
Life is precious and amazing and right here.
So am I and so is this community—online or in-person, we are better together.
Be well, thrive, and connect, connect, connect—or like the robins, tweet tweet tweet. XX