My little music maker now plays the harmonica, and well.
(I'll try to post a video soon)
He just astounds me. Every musical instrument he finds, he picks up & learns to play in minutes. He is a genius - I'm sure of it :)
I liked the guitar & I am very into his drum playing.
But the harmonica, I think, is my favorite yet.
My boy can play the blues!
At the same time, my heart is breaking.
Aching.
I am sure of almost nothing these days.
(Trent just woke up in the middle of my writing, so I went in & we snuggled & nursed & I smelled his wonderful baby head & listened to him breathing & all was peaceful.)
In a world that made sense, The Dad & I - we would still be living together.
We would not hurt so badly around each other.
We would not scramble through the same damn maze, over & over again, only to find ourselves in the same damn dead end, with no fucking cheese.
Love, we are learning, is not enough.
I am praying more & doing yoga.
Reading Mary Oliver:
Wild Geese
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting--
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
And, so, I have begun my yoga teacher training.
It is intense & challenging & full & bright & exciting.
I like being a student again!
What a beautiful, broken, blessed world...
