Making Room for Magnetism

After a September of adjustment, we've gotten our feet wet with some new things recently. Ballet for the Bean, Skool for L., who is blossoming within those three mornings. The younger sister--who so desperately wants to be bigger that she points out each time her shadow stretches tall on the sidewalk--glows from having her own space to play, create, sing, leap, make a mess, be curious. I am so proud of her, because her joie de vivre will bring her great things in her life, I hope.

We're also bringing some familiar communities along into fall, because they fit me, and inspire me, and the girls fit there, too. L's Waldorf-inspired class, and our twice-monthly volunteer morning at the food co-op (which has become dear time for me to enjoy work and food and issues and the sensory joys of a farm's haul).

I am enjoying the ongoing ways in which I find my tribe. It has taken me some time, but I have begun to feel that when I walk my walk--the walk that is right for me, that walk leads to the tribe. When I leap instead to "meeting," it's a little blind, a little sloppy and wobbly. I find myself wondering, is this where I should be? Do I like it here? When my own paces has led me there, there is the tribe, and I simply need to introduce myself. It's a much slower but easier way for me, and truer. Less exhausting.

"For my children, I wanted to be the sermon, not give the sermon," said Cornell West in an interview with Tavis Smiley that I heard today on my drive home.