i am never shaken

xxxx

today is my first day of graduate school. of papers, and cramming past midnight. of planners, binders, and textbooks with post-it notes sticking out. so begins my year of multi-tasking, juggling, rearranging to make time and space for family, full-time work, pilates, and daily phone calls to my sister.


and as nervous, overwhelmed, and anxious as i am,


i woke up this morning bathed in a holy peace. a reassurance of an ancient promise. i marvel at how the very covenants made with prophets and disciples are still very alive, real and steadfast in my shifting, vagabond life.


because my stresses are different, yes. they are technology based, fueled by the desires and responsibilities of a life lived in the digital age. but His assurances haven't moved. the same God who part the seas will clear a straight way for me. through all the murkiness, muddles, essays and exams.


so i will trust. though i see the long nights ahead of me and the worries inching toward my heart. and that trust alone will push them back into the darkness from which they came.


yes, school starts today.


but my most valuable lesson came with the sunrise.

and the songbirds keep singing like they know the score

xxxxxx

this summer, i did not need an early alarm.

every day, at 6:30 in the morning, like clockwork. i was sweetly, softly, pulled awake.


by a singsong. a melody unlike any other. a little falsetto followed by a short lived baritone. a songbird.


our bed is right beside a window. a big, old window that faces a meadow and a clothesline. blueberry bushes and apple trees.


and when the weather was just warm enough, little birds. i kept the blinds closed to keep out the blinding sun, so i never saw firsthand this delightful alternative to my timex, but it knew exactly, precisely, how much time i would need to wake up, prepare myself for the day, and head out in my honda in time for work.


i named him roger. i presumed him to be male, but in reality, it might have been a lovely lady bird.


yesterday morning, with  hours left to sleep before church, my heating pad on a delicious full blast, and pablo curled at my toes, i heard a familiar, albeit all but forgotten chorus.


roger was back. the brief reprieve of warmth that came with the weekend was enough to draw him out of winter hiding and back to my windowsill.


they're calling for more snow in north carolina this weekend, and inevitably, roger will return to where he came from. storing up those sweet vibratos for springtime.


but at 6:30 on a sunday morning, i was reminded.


that every day brings new surprises. new beginnings. new blessings.


and yes, 


new chances to puff up our chests, look toward the heavens, and sing a song of joy toward a Creator who listens, and who always knew we'd come back. no matter how long we've been away.

one resolution only

i sit in a chair all day at my job.

for eight hours, my bones hibernate. locked in place, the only movement being my fingers on the keyboard, littered with crumbs. as a result, i've noticed my body acting differently. aching, physically yearning, for movement.

in the mornings, during that initial roll up in bed, with legs stretched before me and arms above my head, i hear the cracks in my elbows. it's like they're yelling for activity. nudging me, in their not so subtle way, to use them. push them to their limits. engage them.

so last night, i did a little something different.

with the melody of "pocket full of sunshine" blasting in my head, i dropped my pocketbook at the doorway of my home, ran to the nearest mirror, and had a 20-minute dance party.

right there in the living room. in my work clothes, sans heels. in curls and pantyhose. a few minutes later, robert and pablo joined in on the action. we reconvened a few hours later to dance in our pajamas.

and i felt every fiber in my body thank me. applaud me. for the simple sways and makeshift pirouettes that my  amateur feet made on the sisal rug. for the dynamic fluidity of the movements. the opening up of pores of happiness.

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i don't have a list of new year's resolutions. no set of goals or ambitions.

but i do want one thing for 2011.

more dancing. 

and i'm convinced, everything else i need this year will fall into place.