Monday, April 09, 2007

DAYS I AM PROUD OF
(and a few photos from our Friday afternoon)


"So I am proud only of those days that pass in
undivided tenderness,
when you sit drawing, or making books, stapled,
with messages to the world.
Or coloring a man with fire coming out of his hair.
Or we sit at a table, with small tea carefully poured;
So we pass our time together calm and delighted.
"

from the poem "For My Son, Noah, Ten Years Old" by Robert Bly

I am proud of the days where I wake earlier than the sun and the sky is already staining with light and and wine and I brew my tea with my eyes half-shut and the birds are so wide awake and bold--stealing seed--they think they're stealing, from the little house we've given to them for feeding.

I am proud of the days when I notice them as I settle in with my steaming mug and my journal--when I decide my life is worthy enough to be written down--just for me, just because--in complete unselfish self-love.

I am proud of the days when the computer gathers dust and I gather words on soft paper pages--coiling line after line. I fall in love with my own handwriting--no cares for the meanings of this. I am proud of the days when I pause just outside their sleeping doors and whisper, "Thank You," before I wake them for school--then manage to hold that gratitude--just for their existence--while I pour the cereal and the milk, while I help them into socks and shoes, brush their hair, kiss their soft faces goodbye as they leave. I am proud of the days when their kisses back are reverent prayers--when I notice the fringe of lashes over blue-blue eyes, the perfect bow lips, the subtle shifting of their growing bodies.


















I am proud of the days where my love is a lump in my throat for them. When I settle back into the kitchen once they're safely bundled off to their lives--the humming fridge, ticking clock, and birds calling through the delicate window panes keeping time for me.

I am proud of the days when I feel gratitude--just for sitting there, just for enjoying my own company. I am proud of the days when I push my pen because I was born to do it...when my fear burns off beneath the veil of morning and I know my writing there, these words no one else may ever see, this humble act is the most important thing for me to do right then. It is why I came to life beneath a ripe July moon, why I have survived, why I have eyes and a voice and a cheap black pen.

I am proud of the days when I put the notebooks aside, fuller--richer--for me having been there and fall seamlessly back into the busy tides of my life again...when their voices filling the house and spilling back out over dinner plates is the response the birds were waiting for. I am proud of the days when the man who loves me takes my hand as he dreams--just to make sure I am still there--and I know that being there, a witness to the darkness, is real and is love and is the gift he gives to me. When I remember that I created three people who talk in their sleep without speaking--every exhaled breath a hosanna I sing through them, will always sing through them...on the days I am most proud of.
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11 Comments:

Blogger daisies said...

oh ... there is such a beautiful quiet strength in these words of yours, images of your life ...

this was truly beautiful, you.

12:21 PM  
Blogger la vie en rose said...

mmmmmm...so beautiful....

2:51 PM  
Blogger jenica said...

the tranquility of your writing... i wanna eat it. i think that it would taste something like... pudding and berries, creamy and soulful. thanks for your writing.

4:23 PM  
Blogger deirdre said...

I wish I could spell the sigh that came from deep inside my heart when I read this. Beautiful.

And on a more practical note - are those goats on beams very high off the ground? I know they're climbers, but...

8:58 PM  
Blogger Left-handed Trees... said...

Daisies: I'm learning about quiet right now...

la vie: thank you.

Jenica: what an interesting idea for a writing prompt...what words would taste like!

Deirdre: (smile) yes, those goats ARE pretty high up...we saw them on a farm we visited and the sight of them stalking the skies like that was just surreal to me!

7:26 AM  
Blogger paris parfait said...

Delia, such a beautiful piece of writing - and wonderful photographs, as well. This piece really resonated with me. xo

11:06 AM  
Blogger Lilian said...

Oh this was beautiful, I feel that way too, I feel proud of exactly the same things and of the same moments (although the writing here is not as pleasurable, as any academic writing)... [and I also feel sad that that's not I feel everyday :(]. The way you express your love for your children, your thankfulness for their very existence is just to beautiful. I have to learn to express my feelings in a beautiful way again.

(but I guess I am learning -- thanks for your lovely lovely comment to my latest post, and just reading your writing helps me so much! I wish I had the time to read you more and come here more often... when I do I just feel like "my cup overflows" with the beauty and depth of your writing. Thank you so much for visiting my blog and motivating me to come here too).

12:04 PM  
Blogger Deb R said...

This post is beautiful, Delia. And I love the photos - especially that first funky chicken!

1:05 PM  
Blogger Amber said...

The way you write of your love for your kids...It is hard to believe you didn't always think you would be a mother. Isn't life wonderful? ;)

This is just beautiful. All of it really touched me. You have such talent!

Those goats are hilarious.

:)

2:24 AM  
Blogger Left-handed Trees... said...

Paris Parfait: I'm glad the words resonated, this is such a large part of why I write.

Lilian: I forget this too...it isn't every day that I pull it off, believe me!

Deb: that guy was hard to capture on camera...other people were calling him a pheasant--so I guess that's what he was. Funky? Absolutely.

Amber: thank you for your kindness, as always!

8:53 AM  
Blogger [a} said...

This particularly "I am proud of the days when I notice them as I settle in with my steaming mug and my journal--when I decide my life is worthy enough to be written down--just for me, just because--in complete unselfish self-love."

This post is softly powerful. It made me look upon my day today, as I was reading, and pick out the "proud" parts, without realizing I was doing it! :D

7:17 AM  

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