I found a note in my phone this morning that I wrote myself some time ago:
I have gotten into the habit of doing that; being a friend to myself.
For the longest time I didn’t understand the concept, nor know how to defend it. But of all the painful things which have “happened to me”, no pain has been as great as losing myself. We are our greatest allies first and last, with everything in between a very interesting practice in being human.
A little photographic journal today because there’s nothing like photography to force me to look up long enough to take it in, these days dripping, drowning with all the things.
Valentine’s Day || Heart pancakes and homemade cards || “I love these days,” Billy age 4.
The Kitchen Sink || A treasured scene of babyhood.
Days of just him and her || A tidy space that centres me.
The Reading Era || The next stage of her growth, so enjoyable to witness.
Hot summer days || Rolls || Her joy
Craft days making || How grounding it always is to just create for creation’s sake.
Reunited with our baby high chair || Beginning the next phase of babyhood: Solids.
More First Foods series || Not a fan of anything.
First Day of Kindergarten || First day of Cycle Two
Life At Home || With a big brother
Hot relentless days || Dreaming of Autumn
The Sitting Phase || Her sweetness is overwhelming to me.
“Teach me mortality, frighten me into the present. Help me to find the heft of these days. That the nights will be full enough and my heart feral.” Jack Gilbert.