An unexpected life

I’m curled up in my favorite hammock swing, a soft grey blanket pulled close around me, legs tucked, body swaying gently in the easy afternoon air. I climbed into the swing for comfort. Alone with the sounds of my chickens clucking softly, birds chirruping, leaves rustling, occasional airplanes and trains in the distance, I shove all thought from my head. When I woke today, I was so certain about so many things, anxious about what each hour might hold. When I feel like my life is spinning out of control, I shrink my space to the size that I can manage. Sometimes my space is as wide as the world, some days it is a small as the ground that I stand on, or even my very heart. Today is not the day I expected and planned it to be. It’s not a bad thing or a good thing it simply is a direction I didn’t plan to head in. I’m reflective often enough to understand that most of my life seems to be so…unexpected. A myriad of emotions are swirling inside me and I retreat to the space of my heart beating. Just the beating. That is the size I can manage. My heart seems to be thudding heavily, slowly. I can almost feel the push and pull of the muscle and blood. That is how small my space is today. My heart is beautiful. It’s strong. It has survived the unexpected so often that I am confident in its power to heal. My heart loves deeply. I decide to widen my space enough to watch myself in this moment. I am alive and I am strong and I welcome every turn of this unexpected life.