As I sit down to write, I'm rendered speechless. It's difficult to sit down, to sit still, to simply be - here and now - when there is so much to do. The house is uncomfortably quiet, and I'm grateful for the chickadees and sparrows whose chatter at the feeder fills the empty space left by giggling little girls now in school.The newly empty space echoes the meloncholy silence of September.
The cool, crisp morning air brings me back to Squam Lake, NH.
There, an eclectic group of artists gathered together, a tribe of sorts, to share the extraordinary power of the creative spirit. Two weeks later, I remain in a joyful state of wonder at the beauty and love that infused my time at Squam. Could I truly be that lucky?
I'm overwhemed with gratitude for the warm embrace of friends both old and new, who so generously shared the gifts of their time, attention, wisdom, pain, humor, tenderness and love.
Susan, Kelly, Kathleen, Beth, Heather, Mary, Nina, Misty, and Judy: thank you for sharing your beautiful selves. I'm filled with infinite gratitude and humility as I reflect on my time at Squam.
And somehow the quiet of the empty house feels a little less lonely.
