Shoo fly new fly let it fly. Let it go, let it be, let it swim in the sea with four green eyes and a tumbler of lies. Shoo fly, don’t bother me.

Lumps of light and Wednesday breaths. September swarmed in like a sound still ringing. Love keeps singing to me while I sleep. Hope keeps hollowing a home in my chest. Heart keeps hammering hunger into my hands.

Today and yesterday and everyday I am in love with light. With green grass, with open spores of dirt that smell their way into my nose. Everyday and everyday Jamie learns how to be bigger, how to be one day older, how to grow. Everyday I am reminded that I can’t remember all the things I need to do, am supposed to do, want to do. Everyday I try to try to get better. Somedays I’m able to be on time, to be present, to be awake, to write to do my yoga, to meditate, to clean, to do my tasks (one or more or all of those things). Somedays the world spins past me in a haze and I hold on and find myself at the end of the day already fading fast with heavy eyelids and dreamy brains. All days I try to remember to be grateful to be alive. To love and be loved. To be fully formed and brave enough to face the world.

The Waldorf School buzzes onwards. Inwards. Towards each day it places meaning. It develops light, it fosters faith in the fiery spirit of the human. These first graders are sweet, sly, surprising, strong, solid, serene and supportive of one another. They burst and bulge at the seams, but they seem to catch on quickly, stand up straight, push their chairs in on time. They stare with opal-glass eyes and smile at simple tings. They surround themselves with words of joy and melodies of warmth. They are ready and they are reticent and they are reeling with the first steps into reality. And I am nearly in love, already.

Waking up early sucks. But hopefully I can find new opportunity in this challenge. New twists at every turn.

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