I took this photo in the late afternoon. I wanted to capture the mostly glass objects in the kitchen window from the outside. It was kind of a joke. We were kidding around about how valuable they were, which they are not. And we were saying that we should have a photo for insurance purposes, and in case the Met wanted to buy the collection. So I took a photo, several actually. This one really struck me because of the reflection in the glass of the sky and the trees behind where I was standing. That was not what I was seeing at all. I just focused on the objects, and look what else I else got.
It reminded me how much we all mirror each other whether we know it or not. We know each other by knowing ourselves, and vice versa. “Just like me” as my friend Anita Bondi is so fond of saying. When I took the photo, I only saw what was inside the kitchen window. The mirror reflection showed how much more there was to see. Just like life. Just like me.
I got back home from Northeast PA on Wednesday, the longest day of the year. Beautiful light in the sky. Amazing view of Ranier while flying into Seattle. From the ferry, there were serene and clear views of other islands and the Olympics. This is home. The land, the sky, the air all feed my spirit and heal my soul. Though there are sweet friendships to enjoy, I can be quiet here. I need very little. A good day is moving from the house to the garden to the studio, never leaving home. Painting, cooking, planting seeds, cutting flowers.
When I’m in Pennsylvania, it’s all about being busy. Seeing clients, teaching Reiki, seeing friends, listening to music, doing an occasional craft show. Talking to lots of different and wonderful people in one day. Soaking in that East Coast energy from so many sources. And connecting to my long history in PA.
And I seem to need and love both lives. They seem to flow more and more effortlessly into and out of each other. Both are wonderful. Neither is perfect. The split between East and West is not wide or huge. It couldn’t possibly be a whole continent apart. After eight years (amazing!), I’m starting to become the same person no matter where I am.