I invite you to visit a farmers’ market this time of year. The abundance flows from the stalls. I fill my bags with local produce even though I know, I mean I KNOW, I won’t get through everything. I am only feeding one person after all. But the fruits and veggies looked so delicious and autumn is underfoot as the first leaves begin to fall. It won’t be much longer and Sweet Sue peaches, Brandywine tomatoes, and Brooks prunes (reminiscent of my childhood) will disappear until next year.
As this summer continues unfolding, it feels like wave after wave of violence keeps erupting out of every news cycle in our own nation and across the world. Yet through much of this disturbing energy I have been in a place of personal peacefulness, practicing abundant self-care, including spending today at a nurturing writing retreat: “Coming Home to Body and Earth,” facilitated by Lorraine Anderson. Still, in the midst of my private contentment and the depth of a world in pain, tension is brewing. I am unsettled and want to resolve the tension, knowing I have no immediate solution.