Well, dear forgive me. You know, don’t you, the words are so much harder to make, and now, it’s very late. If I start unspooling all the knots and crannies with words, I’ll run out of brain before I can get us anywhere close to what I need to say. Before I turn into a pumpkin.
Oh, honey. Why do we wait? Isn’t that the message ripening in this silence? If there is magic now, in the light through the window, in simply being closer, what else is there to trade for?
I will be here tomorrow, hon. Sleep tight.
what is beautiful remains 
How do you do it,Brenna, day after day? Cut through the shoulds and musts, the “being on task,” crossing off the to-do list and instead, enter the mystery, just suspend time and find the magic, the deep yearning of the soul, the heart center. The butterflies. I so love your blog, Brenna. IT’s like the temple bell that rings at odd moments throughout the day reminding one to stop and just be present, just be and soak up the juice. Thank you (and a bow).