Power lines down and limited Internet access, working with pen and paper, not looking forward to hours of transcribing. Missing connections and friends. At the same time, the silence and freedom from correspondence, news, interruptions is a relief.
Breathe deeply if you’re voting, let go of outcomes.
Reciting Naomi Shihab Nye’s Fresh to myself:
To move
Cleanly.
Needing to be
Nowhere else.
Wanting nothing
From any store.
To lift something
You already had
And set it down in
A new place.
Awakened eye
Seeing freshly.
What does that do to
The old blood moving through
Its channels?
