Moving

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Moving is tough.

Especially with a baby.

But every fall there is a shift in the world. I can feel it in the cool air of the morning. I can feel it within my own body. Life has many seasons and I think back to past autumns: training for long distance races, preparing for dance performances, the back-to-school rush, and now, this. It feels radically different than my past several seasons, and part of me yearns for the past: the long Saturday morning runs, the anticipation of new students, and the preparation for new classes. Some of it will return, just in a different iteration. But part of me is eager for what this turns out to be.


Moving

 

The late afternoon shadows pour through the window 

of my dining room filled with boxes of memories. 

Boxes of things that we need. 

Or do we really need it all? Not the things.

The memories: new, old, and yet to be made.

 

My life is packaged and bubble wrapped

ready to be hauled off to yet another address.

Another house that I will slowly transform

into a home. A place of warmth, hope, and soft landings.

A place where my baby will learn to walk.

A place where I will learn to stand true. Be myself. 

Or at least, this transformation of myself.

All just merely human. Just desperately trying 

to grasp on to the mane of life that is galloping by. 

 

These days are begging me to slow down. Take it all in. 

These perfect afternoons of long shadows will not last.

Every box my daughter climbs up 

and every teetering step she takes

is one step closer to her walking out of our new home

and into her own. 


 

Love and light,

Kristin

 

PS I am subbing at Willow Yoga next Saturday, Sept 14th at 9:30am. I am back in my old stomping grounds, and I hope to see some familiar faces!

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