“The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love, and be loved in return.”
-Nat King Cole
“I got a mean case of the dandelions this year.” -Colorado
“The Dome of the Mothership,” as my father described.
(a.k.a. The Texas State Capitol.)
Death of loved ones often puts us in our most raw spaces.
Whether we are the ones directly grieving, or we are the friends and family providing support, we all feel winds blow. It can be hard to know what to say, or even how to feel.
It’s incredible to me how often we’re taught not to feel, and it reminded me of this:
We are taught to numb vulnerability.
Vulnerability is not weakness.
When we numb vulnerability, we numb joy, we numb gratitude, we numb an entire range of feelings too.
Vulnerability is the birthplace of creativity, change and innovation.
Vulnerability is courage.
[Adapted from Brené Brown’s TED Talk, “The Power of Vulnerability,” and NPR’s TED Radio Hour, “Making Mistakes”]
Branches like little white bones.
A safe place to hide.
“I hate talking to robots.”
“Funny how when you find what you’re looking for
It was already there
I don’t know why
The simple things hide
The bright shining light
That was and always has been you
I feel in love with the tarnished gold
That’s what remains when the ashes turn cold.”
-Beachwood Sparks, Tarnished Gold
She got misty-eyed during landing and departure this time around, and a lot of it seemed in large part due to the lively green of things back in Texas. It struck her that she might be a bit homesick for her home birds and trees and wildflowers.
As she touched back down in Colorado, the land beneath was a wash of gray.
Spring is gun-shy this year. But that’s ok.
She remembered. There’s something precious about having to look so intently to find the green bits in the landscape.