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the willow and me

I woke with a dozen tasks on my radar: curtains to hang, the office to organize, photo enlargements to order. We host our family next weekend, and I’d love to welcome them into a space that feels homey and cared-for. I’d also like to take a run today, go to the farmers’ market, and get our lunches made for the week. Strands of paper cranes cover the living room table, hopeful for hanging.


The tasks of life call, and I feel grateful for the energy to answer. But a voice within me says Not Yet. First I want to sit and notice the way the sunlight falls across the unswept floor.

sunlight on floor

First I want to turn on piano music that sounds like arms spread wide, like a field of unmown grasses. I feel in my heart that I am more than a teacher, a wife, and a worker; more than a custodian of domesticated spaces. The willow flings her arms to the day and gathers them in again. Me too, I say. You and me both.

the willow

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