"beauty is the conversation between what we think is happening
outside in the world and what is just about to occur far inside us"
what i think is happening and what is just about to occur far inside me. i had to make room for what was happening far inside me. i had to begin a search for trust, i had to try to find the light switch for faith, what it looked like to believe, what it felt like to support me, on my own, table for one. to fall deeply & truly in love with all that i am, broken pieces, torn swatches, whole heart, lonely survivor, messy beauty.
i had no other choice but to get really really quiet.
inside the loud choir of chaos, the recipes to fix my life, the suturing of all the wounds, the should have's, the desperation that would creep up behind me inside needing a new pair of jeans, sneakers, underwear or the kids needs, wants, hungry for what everyone else had to a warm jacket, a lunchbox, a bike.
i remember the fittings my mother would set up for my sister and i in palm beach, florida. we would 'get fitted' for an occasion. in the dressing room with a three part mirror, my mom & usually an older jewish woman looking at me over her glasses to see if the length was just right in the back, to see if they needed to take it in a little more on the side, to see if it was perfect.
my wanting got so thick & sticky like sourdough rising under saran wrap. the waves of wanting would take me under, i could hardly breathe. i wanted to run. i wanted to sit still. i wanted to eat cookie dough ice cream and watch a romantic comedy. i wanted to order 6 of everything. i wanted someone to rub my back, tuck me in and sit with me while i fell asleep. i wanted a mother, a grandmother, a great grandmother. to see me. hear me. tell me i am going the right way. everything is perfect, just like the hem on my dress.
the only thing i could find was beauty.beauty in everything.
beauty and ocean in everything.
hope was turning into beauty.
i could gather, create, be inside of, understand, reflect, taste, smell, quilt beauty into the pain. the entire feast of savory and sweet, i could always create space for beauty. i found her inside my grandmothers cobalt tea cups, a warm wide wood bowl you want to nap in, a perfectly deep and loving ladle. peeling parsnips, my hands inside of olive oil & salt, making love to a new kind of abundance. one that had nothing to do with things and everything to do with the story inside everything. i crave the lineage, the past, the present. the stories i didn't know, the ones i was making up on the fly, the permission to let the flab hang over the unbuttoned jeans, the lipstick on the teeth, burning the rice.
inside the mess i found some more beauty. i found some freedom. i discovered nourishment.
::: this is part three in a series unraveling on home you can find parts one & two here :::