I am thinking about the expansive and contractive quality of love.
Love makes room in your life. You are not too busy for love. It is infinite.
Sometimes love makes you contract. Batten down the hatches, bow out of obligations and go silent for a while. Sometimes it is an act of protecting love.
In the spring I am expansive. I am open to all sorts of wild, time intensive ideas. In the fall, I am closing windows, packing boxes, holding my cards to my chest.
In the spring I am wearing my love on my sleeve for everyone to see, spreading it around if you will. In the fall I am growing my love in miniature, in quiet.
The end of 100 Scribbles here on the blog is perfect timing. I have been on sharing lockdown since the first of September. It happens every year. As the night falls earlier and earlier so does my desire to fraction my thoughts.
I’m not open to debate these days. I am open to the soft inside of the year, what is left of it anyway. It is a time of turning over the soil, organizing my thoughts and running with the ideas that hatched in the spring.
I am in the season of quiet contraction with the people and ideas I love.