Wednesday, January 6, 2016

into lighter moments

"the relationship
between reader and writer
is reciprocal in a way.
we co-create each other.
we are constantly emerging
out of the relationship
we have with others."
-ruth ozeki

while bodhi does not seem to have the same sense of relish for the gently wafting snow sachi once had, i find it immensely invigorating each morning and evening as i drag him out into the cold, crisp air for our four mile constitutional! though, i must say, he sure enjoys snuggling down at my feet afterward as I quietly needle chant.

each stitch i add to community brings me further from the dark avenues my mind has be traveling. into lighter moments. bringing with the light a sense of belonging. to something other than.  it lifts my spirits and makes it easier to take the next stitch...and the next...and the next.  sluggish ideas begin to move through velvet embrace. awaken.  whisper.

it is good.  perhaps the moss will begin to be scraped from this stone as it begins rolling once more. however slowly at first...



  1. What eyes he has! And I love the new cloth...

    1. that boy can melt an iceberg at 50 paces with a glance!

  2. glad you are healing Joe, and stitching lovely things again, community looks wonderful, adn spring will be here before you know it

  3. He has a great face, Joe. This sense you have, that you are being brought "further from the dark avenues my mind has be traveling. into lighter moments." I know it well. I feel it often, that I am finally coming up from the darkness, awakening, moving toward life again. The thing is, I never reach that light-filled destination. I just keep feeling like finally I am starting to recognize it anew. This sensation is not a bad one, except that it is a place from which one can so easily slip. The footing is not strong enough, the distance from the dark not large enough. I am often reminded of Kierkegaard's words: "My depression is the most faithful mistress I have known ... no wonder, then, that I return the love." I sense it is okay with you that I am not following the unwritten internet rules, the only say things which are pretty and supportive and upbeat and throw in a biblical quote while you're at it rules. I hope I'm right about that; if not, I hope you'll forgive me. And you can just delete my comment if it is too much of a downer, especially juxtaposed with your very lovely post. xo

    1. that's a rule?!? geez! i've been doing it all wrong again?! ha!

      as IF i could ever delete a morna-morsel! they are amongst the precious breadcrumbs that guide through the dark and scary forest...

      i believe that light-filled destination is tied to the end of a stick. next to a withered carrot. ha!

      the trick, it may prove, is to ignore the stick's empty promises and simply be in whatever dark, or grey, or not dark, place and find one's place in the scheme of things there. i'm trying. one moment at a time. perhaps spilling a little darkness wherever i go in the process...

  4. Your healing process, shared and appreciated, continues to move in such a good direction. The stitching looks wonderful and so from your heart. Winter has a while to run its course here in Montana, which gives ample time to get Bodhi to look forward to sharing the constitutional miles with you as well as those by your feet times while you stitch. The greatest part of the story for me is that cloth
    and stitch are once again coming alive in your hands and heart. Kristin

    1. Kristin - Your comment is truly beautiful; the kind of comment I wish I had written. xo

    2. "shared" being the operative words, perhaps. (being mindful not to spill too much darkness on the web) bodhi has been a balm...and sometimes a prod...for which i am grateful. as are those of you "around me" on the web! thank you!

      may the story of cloth and stitch ever reverberate down the moments...