One

There.

First word.

The rest of the words will follow eventually. Certainly they have been insistent lately. So many words to put down, or put out, or put away. So many words needing a place to be.

And therefore, 30 days of putting them down, putting them out, putting them away. Finding them a place to be.

Good neighbouring. I must give that some words. Maybe all the words, just because that really is the only point. Everything else leads to that. Love God, love your neighbours; nothing else matters. That is all I have left now, and so that is where everything goes.

Yoga has been the how of my faith these last months. It has been making a physical faith for my soul, creating a quiet corner where I can be still and know, even as I move with that breath of mine. Inspire: take it in. Exhale: let it go. That has been the rhythm of my faith and it has been good. But not good enough. Or maybe, Just Not Enough. It has made space for my body and my mind and my soul to love God, and has surely fed my love for my neighbours. And still, Not Enough.

And so after many weeks of intending, I find myself doing. Doing the part where I write it down, where I build a scaffolding of words around the ineffable*. Where I create a record of my witness. Where I leave documentation that speaks to that which has made itself known to this heart, and that which I want to remember. Because of course, the cruelty of it all is that I forget. That we forget. That we are a forgetful people who can not remember long enough the goodness that has been given, and so quickly we then become tight-fisted goodness hoarders. Our generosity is the first thing to go. My generosity is the first thing to go. But maybe if I write it down, create a record, document what has made itself known - maybe then I will remember, and in the remembering, loosen my hold on the goodness given so that it can land where it ought to be.

There. It is begun.



*It gave me great pleasure to look that word up and realize it was the Perfect Word.