these hands...
The following words came to me yesterday after I took this photo...as I read them again, they feel like pieces of a longer bit of writing, but I will let them just rest here in this space for now...
When these hands were little they smeared Ponds Cold Cream across my grandmother's face, clasped my mother's hand when we walked through the grocery store, and held books that took me on adventures late into the night.
Years later, these hands lightly brushed my grandmother's forehead with a kiss after she died, hold my daughter's hand when we walk through the grocery store, and write words that I hope take others on adventures in their corners of the world.
These hands gather stories and moments each day.
They hold possibility and love.
They guide me through prayer.
They reach out toward connection and grace.
(If you've read Inner Excavation, you know that letting the body speak is one of my favorite prompts. I was inspired to take this photo + write these words after reading yesterday's prompt in Vivienne's Be Your Own Beloved class. So loving her gentle invitations each day. She is one of the best teachers I know.)
liz lamoreux
Reader Comments (1)
This is lovely and vivid of who your were and are and what life was and is. (And I like your mug too)