Little loops

Perhaps the most useful thing I can offer today — most days, really — is to light a candle for the endless team working behind the scenes of my own consciousness.

I realized this yesterday, drinking coffee with my niece at the mall. There I was, fifteen again. That's all it took.

There's a candle burning quietly in my apartment most of the time. That must be why I light it day after day.

The hands-stretched-in-prayer is a good stretch for textile artists. It brings me back to the quiet center line of years of yoga practice and teaching.

The pink satin pillowcase my partner's mom just fixed is the same kind my own mom gifted me. It's the color of a kid who is cared for.

Little loops want to close. Things tend toward their own full circle.

Let them.