stuff

I remember when that lopsided tree in the backyard was one wind gust from falling down on our new house.

We closed on the house in late August. My first house. By November Hurricane Sandy almost caused our upstairs bedroom to crash into our kitchen. Sandy had pulled at least 14 trees out of the ground on surrounding streets. Welcome to the neighborhood.

I ended up leaving that little Cape Cod home anyway. My husband will continue to live in our house while we uncouple. I’ve mourned then found the calm to settle all that loss. I’m grateful for what those things were to me and what they made helped me become.

Things aren’t permanent. Stuff might last, it might not. And I’ve tried not to hold on to stuff as tightly as I used to. It’s a daily effort.

As I watch the sky go from gray to white to regular to gray, I feel Jose’s breath coming behind Irma’s.

I’m giving to the people who’ve survived Irma in the ways that I can.

I’m also giving thanks in general. Grateful.

I’m grateful for my freedom. My freedom to change. Freedom to let go when I need to or have to.

I’m grateful for the freedom (and courage) to move onward to what calls me forward.

reach.

reach.

beating under skin

that knows

certain uncertain 

life. 

pushing breath into sound.

she writes herself

with her body.

her stories dance.

I am a WILD journaler. I journal every morning of every day of every week with a pen.

I journal my feelings with dance whenever I get the chance. Won’t you join me?

See my JOURNALS HERE.

More about DANCE WITH THE WILD coming soon!

http://www.michellebernardspeaks.com