for now

If I could have I might have stayed in bed all morning, under the covers, out of sight of the world. The thing is I'm not one to lie in bed; floundering around in my head leaves me feeling worse; like walking through mud with jandals on.
And so I told myself to get up, grab the fork and plant something.
As always my garden is my healer - taking me outside as the world wakes, production and beauty, connection and some work to ground me in the physical.

Grief isn't always easy to recognise. A flatness, tiredness and feeling generally overwhelmed with my life might be what mine looks like right now.

Gunter brought out coffee into the garden and we sat on the bench, the rising sun on our backs and drank it together.
Gunter left for work, the girls got up and I brought a pansy and a forget-me-not to the breakfast table to draw in my journal. The girls joined me. Today I began a morning commitment of writing 5 things I am thankful for, right next to the pansy.
Today's list:
> Morning coffee with Gunter.
>My garden.
>A day at home.
>Warmer weather.
>Obama making it in the US election.
By mid-afternoon I was still only half dressed, my pyjama top still on underneath my gardening jumper and the house was chaotic as I tried to regain order in my life by moving furniture around.
This can become an annoyingly ongoing habit with living in such a small space but right now I might just call it cheap therapy.

A gift came in the post from a friend today.
On the envelope she had written:

"Heke iho nga roimata tiaho mai nga whetu arahi mai ki te whenua"
"As the tears fall the stars shine down and lead our waka back to shore."

For now, the tears come and they go. That is the way of it. They are a comforting friend who will in due time bring me back home.


  1. sometimes commenting seems so arbitary, so wrong when your post is so profound and resonates with me and I wish I could just sit in silence with you and drink coffee too... thinking of you

    1. A quiet cuppa would be great. I could watch you knit :)