’T is you that are the music, not your song.
  The song is but a door which, opening wide,
  Lets forth the pent-up melody inside,
Your spirit’s harmony, which clear and strong
Sing but of you. Throughout your whole life long
  Your songs, your thoughts, your doings, each divide
  This perfect beauty; waves within a tide,
Or single notes amid a glorious throng.
  The song of earth has many different chords;
Ocean has many moods and many tones
  Yet always ocean. In the damp Spring woods
The painted trillium smiles, while crisp pine cones
  Autumn alone can ripen. So is this
  One music with a thousand cadences. 

~ Listening, Amy Lowell [Public Domain]

Oh, this week of moods and magic, misunderstandings and clarity and intimacy and confusion and mystery. The holiday approaches and today, the longest night; happy solstice. I ran 2.5 miles, a cold one, and then took a walk with the special one and Charlie. I have been so confused about the holiday and how to manage Covid. Clarity will come. It started to come tonight. Frank and I had a car date. We finished in our offices after 5:00 p.m. and decided to drive and get a sandwich to go, nothing fancy! from Subway, and we ate in his car, it was a spontaneous picnic and it was December dark and cozy with the seat heat, and then we got a coffee from Starbucks and drove around talking and talking, envisioning the holiday, how to let it emerge as it will in its own special way. He said some very nice things to me, such as how much he appreciates how I can go into the woods this time of year and find so much to appreciate. And I said nice things to him, and we had a merry ride and I came home so hopeful after all. Also, a deep conversation with my daughter. A deep listening, a deep dive into history between us and staying present, staying open, listening into discomfort, and the possibility of moving beyond it. Movement, through deep listening and acknowledgement and validation of feelings.