May is a cusp month. It's almost summer, sort of spring. Kids are still in school, but summer's loose ends still loom. Flowers continue to bloom, while trees blossoms tend to fall. The sun is out, the heat is on. The terns are back, though the whales are gone. Our dance of twists and twirls with end of (school) year festivities is dizzying, and we find ourselves exhausted and exalted as we carry on.
I sense a shift within my hemisphere every time May comes around- the abundance of birthdays and celebrations, with a niggle of "oh-my" for the upcoming tidal shift. I know the schedule that once was will soon turn on its head and the projects that I'd meant to tackle will remain on my "list" for who knows how long. And this May is no different, but maybe my approach is... Abundance- here I come! I don't know about you, but I love celebrating milestones (and if you're reading this you probably already knew that). I also love celebrating dear friends.
Last week one of my soul sisters turned 50. Three giddy 40 somethings and a dazzling quinquagenarian hit the streets of Rome for a tour we will never forget. Immersing ourselves in food, friendship, history, and the profound beauty of our surroundings, all of my senses oohed and awed. A week of YES to pasta, vino, music, coffee, shopping, praying, talking and walking had me glowing (and rolling by the time I left).
Over the week, old and new friendships sparked ideas and realizations that can only happen when you remove yourself from the day-to-day. We had time to listen and no "have to's" other than our dinner reservations, and our edges of "getting it right" softened and our being-ness happened. Whether we were walking down a quiet street where Picasso's studio used to be or blowing our hair out before dinner, we meandered together both inside and outside our hotel room on Piazza di Pasquino. And as we moved through the eternal city, each of us couldn't help but reflect the light and darkness we witnessed in each other, embodying the chiaroscura technique of the Rafael and Caravaggio paintings we visited in the villas and churches. We achieved a reverence that embraced our differences- be it tastes, values, experiences, or perspectives- and I found myself so deeply connected to these beautiful humans I hadn't known as well before I arrived.
I am home for a hot minute (pun intended) between fetes, and soon off to Connecticut to celebrate 2 coming of age festivities- a dear friend's bar mitzvah and a son's graduation. And it's in these moments, this space between finding the ground, reseting the clock and touching extreme exuberance, where I effort to return towards equanimity. To live with mindset of having a completely open heart, no matter how fast my heart is racing. To be present and aware of the details in my life on St. Thomas, as I dash around to appointments before the next leg of the journey arrives; appreciating the tomato soup red of the blossoming flamboyent trees whose green leaves come second; allowing myself a quick dip in the pool to cool down before I grab Harry from school; carving out time to observe the wing speed between the pelicans (flap, glide, glide... glide) and the mourning doves (flit, flit, flit) that cross the horizon at sunset. All the while, I know that there is another suitcase to pack, loads of laundry to wash and fold, and dog sitter instructions to cover. And if I can make space for the both/and, I can meet and participate in these epic triumphs with my full, beating, beaming, bursting heart.
Witness. Enjoy. Ground... Abundance.
Shining on,
St. Sunshine
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