I read a lot. And because I check out 4-5 books at a time, and because I read a little in one and then a little in another, they all become one story. Interwoven. Characters from one novel coexist in relationship with characters from different books, becoming one huge pot of stew. So when I think about a particular book, I often cannot truly say whether or not I’m remembering the book as it was–or rather as it is now, in my mind. After the merging of people and plots and pages. And I’m noticing that I like this because it feels so much like life itself.
What brought this to mind was just now trying to remember where I had recently read that for each year we live, the earth travels 584 million + miles in its orbit around the sun. And I realized that I wasn’t sure which book it was in–and it didn’t matter anyway. What mattered about the thought was this–that this is another example of how so many other things are always at play, even when we’re focused on only ONE thing. So many levels at work. So many parallel and concurrent dimensions and events existing simultaneously. And while I thought I had spent 2013 in a relatively fixed position, in fact I had travelled, along with everyone else, over 584 million miles. More than 160,000 miles a day. There’s a seed of wonder in this, for me.
So. WV. A four-day trip. To embrace family. To embrace the land. To remind myself that even when I can’t see it in person, this land-of-my-early years, this ground of ancient wonder, remains intact.
And every morning, because I still get up with the chickens, even though my rooster is only a distant memory now, every morning I had the delightful opportunity to sit before a wood stove and nurse embers into flame.
I wonder about that–nursing embers into flame. How that speaks of seeing. Really seeing as opposed to just looking.
And even though very little stitching took place, cloth travelled with me. And what seemed only a trip of 800 miles was in fact part of a much longer journey around the sun.