Last week - bright close-ups in Portugal - even the unripe green lemons and oranges are shining - I can smell the perfumed zest in their skin.
All day I've had to defrost my blue fingers in hot water before I can zip up my boots, before I can type, before I can chop spring onions. The north wind, loud as the hurricane of my husband's sneezes, is howling into the house, rattling the sash windows - blowing white and red dust off the sills onto carpets, onto floor tiles.
My husband says he doesn't understand any of the words in my Christmas letter......I'm wondering if it's worth sending.
Feeling weary and dispirited tonight...... knowing how to feel better - by loving what arises - and not doing it feels like another failure.....I'm loving the theory but rubbish at practising it. Scrambling to get out of my pit ....slipping deeper in....so going to bed.....trusting in a fresh heart, a fresh spirit tomorrow.
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