Each of us writes a song throughout our life. All songs have some words in common, but not one of them is the same as another. This is about my song.
Though I’ve reached the age of legal majority, I know that I am still but a girl. I know that I cannot presume to understand where my life will take me. All I can do is try to understand where I have been, and and try to live a good life today. Of course, a “good life” can mean many different things to different people. I will not say that I know what a good life really is, only what I think it is for me, and even that changes.
I believe for me that a good life is one which is simple and makes the lives of others better for my being. There is a simplicity to it that I often lose sight of in these times. But still, the desire for simplicity, for a sort of wholesomeness, prevails. Though all lives are shown the way by chaos, the disorder seems more obvious in my life at present. It feels formless and without guidance, as though the stars have become wayward in my night sky. And I drift below them seeking solid ground but unsure how to find it.
And so, I search for things to help ground me. I look for ways to anchor myself to something stable and pure, something to the renew simplicity and wholesomeness I want to bring to my life. I find that I seek to secure myself to the Earth through creation and knowledge of Earthen things. I want to learn to use the produce of her sensible and lusty womb to create nourishment and health for myself and others.
I want to bake hearty breads; to grow and gather foods from her sweet, musty loam; to cure strong cheeses and tangy yogurt; to craft medicines from my surroundings; and to facilitate the power of birth returning to the mother through woman-centered midwifery care. I try to learn these things as best I can, hoping that by acquiring these skills and knowledge I will develop a more solid bond with our Earthly mother, so that I might find a little more order in my chaos, a little more simplicity in my song.