On this Solstice morning, I am thinking about hands and holding.
I remember in my youth, my mama kissing the dimples on my knuckles,
and I remember the day when she realized I didn't have them anymore
and the sadness of that kind of growing up but also the importance.
I could pick all of my family and friends hands out in a line up, no problem.
I love looking at their hands, the strength and tenderness, the scars,
the dirty fingernails, the grace, the wrinkles, the wear, the life.
We hold things, we hold onto things.
We support each other, we caress each other.
We do good work with these hands.
So this morning, as the light returns,
I would like to express some deep gratitude.
Thank you dear ones, for the holding.
Thank you for your good work in the world.
Thank you for being flawed and perfect all at once.
