I am here, this morning, on my couch, at 7:33 AM to write something. While I sit, I can hear my husband scrolling through Instagram reels from bed and some loud banging happening outside of our house - we have a construction crew working on a retaining wall that we've been told could fall over at any moment - it's slowly been shifting over the last however many years and as first-time homeowners, this is the first big project we've invested in. The banging isn't distracting at all!! ;)
I wanted to write a story/poem/comic about my walk yesterday. I am working on an idea for a coffee table book about small everyday moments. I am imagining the book will help people reconnect to the small moments in life that bring them joy - hopefully making them feel more mindful throughout their day-to-day lives. I was inspired to sit here and write something because of a recent episode of the We Can Do Hard Things podcast by Glennon Doyle (cohosted by her wife and sister). In this specific episode they are talking about the art of writing and Glennon goes into detail about how she started her blog, how a post went viral, and how she got a literary agent out of it. The main takeaway I got from the episode is the importance of this ritual for Glennon. It was a matter of getting something on the page, having time just for herself, and not worrying too much about getting everything perfect. And since I am a perfectionist, I am always looking for ways to challenge this part of myself and remind her that it's okay to figure things out as we go. That's all of life, when you think bout it. So I'm sitting here today (well, more like laying here, on my couch, with a blanket and my robe on) to write something. And now that I've avoided writing about the thing I was going to write about, I'll start writing about it.
Yesterday I went on a brisk, winter walk that started at 4:30 PM. Here in Nashville, that's around the time the sun starts setting, so I knew this was my last chance to get some light before the day turned to night.
As I walked, huddled up in my big ski jacket, something bright kept catching my eye. I looked up to see a half moon, following me as I walked through the neighborhood.
Every time I turned a corner, there she'd be, getting a little brighter with each passing moment, reminding me that she's always around.
I imagined tying a string around her and taking her with me everywhere I go.
Since I (unfortunately) don't own a dog, it's nice to have her as a companion on my afternoon walks.
Sometimes I see her in the mornings too, barely visible in the sky, but still there to accompany me throughout the day. Another reminder that, even if her shape and brightness changes, she is always there.
I'm thankful for her presence. It makes me feel less alone. It connects me to the moment. To nature. To mother Earth.
If you have a moment today, look up and see if she's around.