sacred day two hundred eighty-four.

making apple juice.

10.11.2011

making apple juice at the market.  he loved the fun of seeing the apples crushed and juice pouring into the bucket.  we love our tuesday evenings at the byrd house market and are so thankful for the bounty our farming friends produce daily.

sacred day two hundred eighty-one.

celebration!

10.8.2011

celebrating my love's birthday with a homemade carrot cake.  we delighted. laughter. love. light.

sacred day two hundred sixty-nine

tree of life. 

9.26.2011

making the second tree of life canvas for a dear family, this tree of life celebrates a family of four.  love grows here.  truth telling.  truth sharing.  a canvas to hang in the sacred space of a bright life's room.  may all be blessed. 

sacred day two hundred sixty-six

gardenia.

9.24.2011

gardenias in bloom represent goodness, love, and safety.  i love that smell as i walk into the back yard.  i love that this gardenia bush blooms multiple times throughout the year and looks the best ever right now.  i love the gardenia's connection to the deep south, sweet tea, and outdoor play.  sacred space. sacred smells.  sacred memories.

sacred day two hundred sixty-one

holding hands.

9.19.2011

still creating routines on these walks to and from school, i love that my boy holds hands with me.  he takes my hand first.  it's a sign of love, comfort, safety, and trust.  we are for each other in these steps.  we walk together.  i am given the opportunity to witness his goodness and independence in these days.  i stand back and watch.  sometimes i hold on, but not too tight.  

sacred day two hundred fifty-seven

well preserved.

9.14.2011

chopping and canning these pears was a sacred act.  my boy was in bed, getting rest.  i was in the kitchen listening to the rhythm of the knife as each pear was chopped into small, coarse pieces for the dutch oven.  again and again, my ancestors show up and are present.  they were with me in this kitchen.

sacred day two hundred fifty-three

morning light.

9.10.2011

the sun brings that good vitamin D and that jolt of energy.  the sun's light streams into my kitchen window and flavors our morning meal.  our bodies are restored with these days of good light after rain, wind, and cloudy darkness.  we're revived and rested.  we love the light! 

sacred day two hundred fifty-two

stepping.
9.9.2011

my boy has paint on his right shoe.  his socks usually don't match.  he's a delightful boy to be around.  he gets excited. he can get frustrated & demand attention.  he's cute when he's angry.  i love that he knows what he wants, and tries to articulate with a very long and drawn out story as to what that is.  he's imaginative and creative.  of course, i'm his mother. i'm biased.  yet in this moment i am watching him take slow steps.  he's bird watching.  it's amazing how still he can be when he listens to and watches birds. i love this boy & his sacred steps.

sacred day two hundred fifty

stepping together.

9.7.2011

we're starting new rhythms, new patterns.  walking beside one another, holding hands.  i'll take this every day.  i love the walking. i love the hand holding. i love the morning stillness & movement.  i love the shared stories as we walk and talk together.  i love being mother to this child.

sacred day two hundred forty-nine

show me what today was like.

9.6.2011

my boy's first day of kindergarden.  how sweet.  he was a little uncertain.  he was a little scared.  he was excited, too.  all of those mixed emotions. at the end of the day, in that moment of picking up, hugging, and lovin' i asked him to show me what today was like.  this. this exuberance. this joy.  this delight.  it spoke of the day and the day's end.  

sacred day two hundred forty-eight

returning home.

9.5.2011

flying like a bird. watching my boy look out the window of calm after a previously bumpy flight.  enjoying the memories and sounds of the national folk festival still within.  happy to be traveling home.  

sacred day two hundred forty-seven

lion dance.
9.4.2011

witnessing youth dance as lions.  seeing the tamer tame.  watching and observing.  listening.  aware of all that is taking place as the rain gently falls.  watching my boy as he witnesses their craft.  we are so blessed to witness such color, such sound, such beauty that surrounds us.  

sacred day two hundred forty-five

adventure.

9.2.2011

excitement and a little nervousness welling up from within.  witnessing the afternoon light from a window on a plane that's carrying us to places familiar.  excited for the adventure that awaits.  trusting. listening. being.  welcoming the sacred on this adventure with us.  life's a grand adventure with this little lad.

sacred day two hundred forty-one

savoring.

8.29.2011

savoring a tasty drink among good women at the tail end of a gathering. recognizing the lightness in the air.  naming the moment as a good one, in which my voice is shared and i listen well to stories told.  we dream a little togeher, sharing stories of writing and laughter.  breathing together in a shared space.  thankful and whole.  looking into this sacred circle and sipping.  sipping life a little at a time.

sacred day two hundred thirty-eight

picking figs.

8.26.2011

picking figs is a delight! picking figs at the home of church friends brought back memories of picking figs over the years at my grandmother's homeplace.  fig picking in this day was a sacred act, connecting hospitality, memory, the earth, the promise of sustinence.  oh, what a gift.  what a gift.

sacred day two hundred thirty-two

saying goodbye.

8.20.2011

perhaps i did not take the most care in my words as i offered to a friend to add our goldfish to her backyard coy pond.  perhaps i should have not said aloud that this fish would survive nuclear disaster.  perhpas i should not have coveted its home thinking about a terrarium.  perhaps.  in any event, we buried the goldfish that lived over 4 years.  the smallest that survived until it did not.  we found it under it's large river rock in the tank & decided to let our boy choose how to honor it.  so we did.  now the river rock is atop this fish in the yard as it's tomb stone.  he gets it. he sees life and death. he's touched it, and used my grandfather's july funeral in setting up this one.  

sacred day two hundred thirty

canning.

8.18.2011

the art of preservation was passed along through my grandparents.  the sights and smells of canning and freezing foods has remained with me.  jellies, jams, vegetables, soups, vinegars. oh, it's delight to connect and feel myself standing in my gradmother's kitchen with her beside me.  i feel her presence as i can these tomatoes.  this small kitchen has become a sacred space where i feel warm (it gets quite hot) and centered and whole. 

sacred day two hundred twenty-nine

sacred flames.

8.17.2011

my women are called to mind at various points.  sometimes i simply think about them, other times i reach out to them, telling them i love them.  today i hurt for a friend who loved a young man that was killed in an automobile crash.  such saddness.  he was her family.  he was a bright light in the world and there is something missing.  he's left his mark as those who love carry him within them.  i didn't know this teenager.  i know the love others carry for him.  i carry one of those in love.  so i light a candle.  a sacred flame recognizing far better than i can in words what change has happened.  a flame that represents love, life, and loss.  peace. peace. peace.

sacred day two hundred twenty-six

cooking.
8.14.2011

my sweet boy loves to cook.  he loves to know what ingredients are in recipes, what things are made of. on this morning, he wanted to wear his new apron made in a vacation bible school last week and prepare his morning meal.  he's very good at scrambled eggs.  the way he holds his hand above, adding shredded mozzarella cheese is just right.  he's his own lovely being.  i love, love, love witnessing my boy and the goodness that flows through him.  i love him so.  he's a treasure.

sacred day two hundred twenty-five

a space to write.
8.13.2011

this is a journal for sacred writing.  for writing as a spiritual act.  for allowing the creative spirit to come into me and flow through me.  this is a space to remind me that my words have value and meaning.  this hand created book filled with many colors & repurposed pages will also remind me how our words can hurt and our words can heal.  this is a space to breathe deeply these truths and recognize what our words can do in the bigger world.