For Hannah, On Her Birthday

This is a poem my dear friend Kayci just sent to me today. She has been gestating this expression for the past week, since the day we put Hannah to sleep, which did happen to be the Summer Solstice.

"For Hannah, On Her Birthday"

Today is the day the sun stands still,

The real meaning of solstice

This longest day

Is really the end of light’s reign

A last hurrah

Before darkness makes its comeback

While on the other side of this world

Night is loosening its grip

Hannah knows it, by name

This life’s orbit, too, is palindromic

The beginning and end meet in the middle with a stutter-step

Zenith or nadir, you choose

Or see if you can hold both to your chest at once,

Folding eternity down the middle

The astronomer peers through her instrument

To a remote universe

And what she sees, now,

Is really an event of the distant past

As for the solstice, well

Every day, the sun is standing still

Dear Hannah

Let darkness come; there is nothing to fear

Perception is illusion

Truth is not a single star, but a constellation

We come from celestial zest

And we shall return to it

Watching the Pears Grow

It's been unplanned, but I've developed a practice every day thus far in my first week of Sabbatical. Just being on the ground underneath the pear trees. Sometimes I nap, sometimes I read, sometimes I sit, sometimes all of the above.

There is something about being directly on the Earth for a couple hours that just slows everything right down.
I have found that the shade the trees provide in the late morning is lovely, and I follow it as it travels around the grassy parts of the backyard.

My dear friend Stacey is going through a difficult time right now, and when she came over and we sat under the pear trees, I assured her that once the pears were ripe -- around the Autumnal Equinox -- we would sit here again, enjoying their honey-sweet, delicately crisp deliciousness, and things would be different for her than they are right now. That's a season. I have put myself on that time frame as well. At the Autumnal Equinox, I will check in with myself about where my energy is and whether or not it is time to initiate the Active Phase of the Professional Development Plan. Until then, I am in the Receptive Phase. Which may last two seasons. Just like nature. And as Mister Rogers once said:

"In the long, long trip of growing, there are stops along the way. It's important to know when we need to stop, reflect, and receive. In our competitive world, that might be called a waste of time. I've learned that these times can be a preamble to periods of enormous growth."