Worlds within Worlds

Deeply overcast day. Perfect for making tiny worlds inside worlds with rich green moss, fresh from the forest.

Terrariums: my interest in these little jars of life seems somehow tied up with my recent questions over work and our future. It is as if I can let myself imagine a series of different worlds — each completely contained. While my fingers are occupied with tiny bits of moss and lichen, I sift through possibilities in my mind and envision a half-a-dozen different paths. How can I be simultaneously so centered and so utterly unsure?

(From a piece I wrote in January 2015, before we knew that little Wallace would be joining our family.)

Making Space

A meditative morning
cleaning out a garden bed,
getting ready for garlic.

Pulling out the old growth
to make room.
Letting in the light,
just before the rain.

There is so much color here —
so much joy in the seeding and growing,
planting and transplanting.
Watching, waiting, watering.
Flourishing, nourishing.

But there is sorrow, too.
Sorrow in letting it all go,
pulling it out —
even as I know that I must let it go
to make space for what is to come.