I live in a landscape of liminal spaces. This past Samhain I have been hovering, neither truly in this world nor out of it. Partly this has to do with pondering mortality and how we may live out our last days. I am not dying (well, not that I know of at any rate), but there are others close who have been taken to that edge physically, mentally and spiritually. 2015 was a challenging and exhausting year, with many highs and some gutting lows for me and those close to me. I have had to pause, hibernate and dip into the no-words place before I could break surface.
Winter has a stillness that I truly value. I am grateful for the ice that hems us in. I am grateful for the wood that snaps in our log burner and the candle that glows with my many special intentions. I sit and knit little squares that will eventually become a blanket for a refugee or migrant and I am grateful for the meditative space between the click of the needle and the flick of the loop.
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