{she}

Emotions of goodness sidle sweetly alongside grateful heaps of hope.

They are tucked silently away in the caddy corners of her heart.

She is ready.

For fun and sharing.

For learning and laughing.

Impatiently, she marvels at these new subtleties surrounding her.

His voice.

His attentiveness.

His friendship.

{she}

sighs

sings

second guesses her place in this arena of happiness.

{she}

a precious one.

kind and obedient

caring and considerate too

cautiously, a dreamer.

Ever anxious to leap and not look.

But unplanned is just.not.her.style.

{she}

an achiever

a Believer

a heart feeler

She notices.

She leaves out nothing.

Details speak to her soul.

And she so longfully aches to plan them before they are even born.

Hurts do make the skin tender to the touch.

As wounds do make the body wince.

And {she}?

Up on the tippies of her toes, there's a tingling tickle telling her...

{ready yourself}

Because the jump is light and airy.

And the fall into happiness feels so nice.

Unplanned and all.

No more wincing.

{she}

our babysitter

our friend

the little girl who caught my wedding bouquet

Meet Taylor Raye.

.mac :)

({she} writes too. Check her out here.)

Follow

It's what my heart longs to do.

It's that tugging feeling.

You know, that lump in your throat.

It's that beautiful space where a woman and man join hands on the dance floor.

Brief smiles exchange as hands intertwine.

The rhythm begins.

And she knows.

She just knows.

To follow.

The press-rest of his hands on the small of your back.

{gliding & turning}

Filling up the place called floor.

The beautiful melody is but the presence of his fingers.

Lying behind you.

A marionette to the tendons that run down your legs.

And you do as he says.

Even though he says nothing at all.

Onlookers sense it.

The magic between you.

The swirls and whirls are beliefs far beyond the now.

And well before yesterday was even a reality.

Yes, I long to.

For a leading lady is quite rude.

On the dance floor among other things.

So I will sequester my urges to do and to go.

In so many facets under the sun.

Instead, I will tousle my hair back.

Fresh washed and long.

I will straighten my shoulders and ready my smile.

As he is here.

To lead.

Me.

And I will follow.

.mac :)

(photo: the place where I married my husband 8 years ago. the boys: ours.)

humbled

Life has a way of overhwelming you and leaving you breathless.

Breathless for more.

Breathless to keep up.

This summer has been just this for me.

I am.

I have been.

I will still.

The break from my musings has left me with more.

Musings that is.

And it seems this summer has been a tactile one for me.

So journals and scribbled thoughs, I have hand written.

Tip-taps of typing keys have been put to bed for this season while I have hung hard at it with a pencil and steno, don't you know.

This summer has been one of seeking in hopes to find.

Of contemplating and weighing possibilities...

Of letting go in hopes to hold on.

Of discovery.

Of the bare essentials.

Of unpredictablity.

Of a lot of things happy and humbling.

k.Mac continues to rock.

So do my sweet, sweet boys.

And my hips have been swaying from time to time too, don't get me wrong.

It's just finding the rhythm that rocks your soul takes time.

Time if you wanna rock just right.

And I so wanna.

Rock just right that is.

Hope to find my place back here in the world of tip-taps.

.mac :)