April comes to a close. It is a month of light and lightness.
So many of the fast, nervous streams of thought in me have calmed.
The best things: kids getting bigger but maintaining a baby space just for us. Nicky crawls into the space between us in the bed, quick to laugh and share all the things that matter to him. We strive to listen. Silas asks, delighted, “you’re going to watch this with me?” when I plop down next to him on the couch with a pile of clean laundry. Aimee runs up to me and sticks out her hand, and we walk together.
We sit next to each other, listening to this couple make music, still going after 25 years. They talk about sustainability. We’re learning. We lean against each other in the dark.
Everything’s coming in green. This is the easy time of year. Windows open, feet bare, giant bees hovering gently around our heads, sunlight for the way in and way home from work. Everything lightens in April. I turn thirty-two. I have a good feeling about this year.
I still dream about expanding my life, while at the same time so grateful for my life just as it is. This is peace.
There are declarations I feel like I can make, but I’m not making them. I’m simply enjoying the lightness of this new place. I used to put a whole lot of emotional energy into things that I don’t see the need to anymore. The energy goes to other things now. Things of my choosing. The here and now.
Peace. There are different ways to come to it.