Broken Vows Builds Muscle

“Come, come, whoever you are. Wanderer, worshiper, lover of leaving. It doesn't matter. Ours is not a caravan of despair. come, even if you have broken your vows a thousand times. Come, yet again , come , come.”

Rumi

Ok so I broke my vow of 365 days of writing. Been scattered, been moving from house to house in this nomadic house/cat/dog/plant sitting wandering kinda way; makes it difficult sometimes to stay within a rigorous practice when the environment keeps changing and the beings in that environment change - from plants to seedlings to flowers, from dogs to cats to a diverse ensemble of birds lulling me to pay attention to colour and melodies and the joy of spring ! Also an assortment of living spaces from chaotic, to spacious, to confusion of where is this and that - which corner, drawer, cupboard, closet, container, shelf… and of course there are the many walking possibilities, from fields to forests to bike paths, to city streets lined with cafes and bakeries, and then which friends now live around corners, up the road, or a jump in the car away.

The loss of this 365 day vow is helping me build muscle, the muscle of return, return, return, come, come, come again! This will not be a parade of gloom but a come again, come again, we will come again with great tenderness, knowhow and courage.

Most days my timer is on (45 minutes) and as long as I stay in my seat even when my mind goes wandering, skipping from piece to piece amazed at the ideas scattered while committed to staying, reaching for more and more focus, more and more untangling and clearing and placing and leaving and returning, returning always returning. now. now. now.