"It's as if a great bird lives inside the stone of our days and since no sculptor can free it, it has to wait for the elements to wear us down, till it is free to fly." Mark Nepo

Saturday, January 5, 2008

Abundance

Six o' clock on a Saturday morning. Drippy January Saturday. Cold wind-slashed air tries to chew through the layers of flannel pajamas, chenille robe and Walt's quilted flannel shirt. My toes are dry but cold-numbed in polka-dotted rubber boots. The search for socks forsaken in the need to get Toby outside quickly.

He slept through the night again - three in  a row now. My body isn't as grateful as the rest of me. It's still exhausted from two weeks of broken sleep. It's grouchy sore from hours of floor sitting and bending to puppy level and hurdling puppy gates. Hands stinging from encounters with the knife drawer that is Toby's mouth. Brain caffeine-starved and annoyed at having to wait for its fix for the fifteenth morning in a row.

While Toby teethes on a fir branch just out of my arm's reach, I stand in the back yard. Utterly still. Acutely aware of the clean sharp air scouring the remaining sleep from my core. Looking into my home and my life from the blanketing dark of outside. 

I've spent my life looking into lighted homes from the dark outside. Wondering if the people inside were happy. Aching to be a part of the families gathered within. Envying the warm glow on the other side of the windows I gazed longingly through.

As I look in the same way into my own home, I realize that in this moment I am happy. Happy and grateful and deeply content.  There is no wondering or aching or envy. This is enough. 

I like the people who live in this inviting country home - my home. I see sanctuary, haven, hope through the bay window of my dining room. My heart fills to overflowing with love, gratitude and joy. I have everything I've ever wanted. This is enough.

Enough becomes abundance and more as my sweet puppy, a faint ember blur in the last dark of this winter morning,  drags his branch to my feet in an invitation to play. I coax my reluctant back and aching legs into a response. Toby and I  run gleefully across the rain-slick lawn, our frolic gently lit by the glow from the house.




9 comments:

contemporary themes said...

He is so adorable! It gives me great joy to hear the "this is enough" phrase. I'm still waiting for that, although on some days, I feel more content than others. You capture that longing well, and you express your contentment now perfectly!

Sending love your way!

Carrie Wilson Link said...

Pure perfection. This post rocks, and so do you!

Nancy said...

I love this!
"My body isn't as grateful as the rest of me. It's still exhausted from two weeks of broken sleep. It's grouchy sore from hours of floor sitting and bending to puppy level and hurdling puppy gates. Hands stinging from encounters with the knife drawer that is Toby's mouth. Brain caffeine-starved and annoyed at having to wait for its fix for the fifteenth morning in a row."

Through cold,dismal sleep deprivation, you see straight through to the heart of home...to happiness which is always enough.

Beautiful!

Anonymous said...

This post is so perfect Deb, it overflows with abundance! He is the cutest puppy, each picture, he gets cuter and cuter. So glad the sleeping it better. I so know what you mean about looking into people's lighted houses from the dark out side, wondering if they are happy. I love that you gaze at yours and feel such love and happiness. You deserve every bit and more.
XOXO

kario said...

I get such warmth spreading through me to read the words that say you are happy, content, full-up. You deserve to have so many more days like this, my dear.

Love.

Jerri said...

Dearest Deb--it's such a joy to read about your happiness. Your writing is as sharp as "the knife drawer that is Toby's mouth."

Love the piece. Love the pic. Love you.

Deb Cushman said...

I'm so glad that he's finally sleeping through the night and the howling has hopefully abated! I don't envy you the standing outside in the cold morning darkness, but I do remember that feeling -- eveything cold and still -- with some nostalgia.

Blair said...

What a cute puppy! I love the image of your warm happy house - just like you!

riversgrace said...

What an arrival. Beautiful.