Several years ago, on a still-long but already winding-down day of summer vacation, I stood in the Ottawa River with my pant legs rolled up as far as they’d go. Flat rocks and the low water level had allowed me to wade in quite far —far enough to leave the known banks for a taste of wild.
Ducks and geese swam along in their la-de-da-ho-hum way, every so often honking or splashing into flight.
A soft wind teased my hair, almost, but never quite, blowing my hat away.
The current whooshed around me, drowning out anything but the excitement in my chest:
After trying not to be alive in various ways for many of my younger years, after looking for anything to numb my feelings and hide my heart away, here I was: flesh and blood-alive, and filled with something that could only be described as joy. I’d have to create something with that.
I didn’t know exactly what it’d be but it’d have to be something simple. Something filled with things I love. Something sensual, the stuff of poetry. With heaps of comfort. And humor, so that it’d never take itself too seriously. And plenty of laughter, that miraculous balm for tightness and stuckage.
It’d be a thing or a place to express and connect. And support, both in the making a living sense and in the supporting others in getting to know and make friends with the astonishing, bewildering, amusing, hilarious, heartbreaking beings we call our “selves.”
That, my friends, was my vision for Heidi’s Table. And here we are today: Welcome to my new webhome! Welcome to my table!
[Yes, there are blog posts before this one. I brought them with me from Baba Yaga's Place, my last webhome. I hope you'll bookmark my new address here at Heidi's Table. Maybe you'll subscribe to get an email when I post a new entry. Or subscribe in a reader. ]