stretch marks (a guest post from kelly letky)

while we are soaking up the wonder of a newborn in the house, a few of my blogging friends are sharing some guests posts...enjoy today's meditative writing from kelly letky.

*****

I watch as the years layer themselves across my aging body, this collage of tiny scars tracing lines along my curves, a living scrapbook of losses, gains, labor. These marks, they build up slowly, like rings inside a tree, not taking away, but adding beauty, character, strength.

Still this book that is youth is not closed to me, not just yet. Instead it whispers of its leaving, letting me down gently, preparing me for days to come, when creases will be furrows, bindings will crack, pages will be brittle.

For now, I am elastic. I spring back from the cause of each mark, my body repairs. Spinning cobwebs from dust to create this web that weaves itself around me, through me, over me. Not a trap, but a cushion, arms of solace, fragile cradle for my soul.

My body, this body, will give out on me one day. But not now, not today. I have miles, many miles, to walk before I reach my destination. I have traveled through the stories of my youth, the angst, the heartbreak, the disappointment, and landed on my feet. These feet that are calloused, hardened off by years of wear.

But I made it to this day. This day that is here, this word that is now. I keep my eyes wide, my heart open, as I wander down the path of shadow and birdsong, sunshine and silence.

There are times, every day, when I forget where I am. Forget everything but the crazy pattern of my steps. And then I come back to the present, not sure how many miles I've traveled, what chapter I missed while I was gone. But there is no reverse. No backtracking. And there is no standing still.

There is only forward. I listen as the breeze mumbles through the trees, telling secrets I will never know. Marks are scratched on the path as I move along, corners folded in, proof to track the passage of time. I don't look back, or down. I don't tally these days that are gone but not forgotten.

I breathe in, arms wide, embrace the moment. This one, the moment I'm in. There is only ever just this one.

I stretch to reach it. A new mark grows on my skin in its place. Evidence of life.

And still, I stretch.

I stretch. And I reach.

*****

Kelly Letky is a graphic artist, jewelry designer, writer, photographer, wife, mother, sister, daughter, crazy cat lady, friend, runner, knitter, gardener, and trying to be, above all, kind, caring, loving, generous, artful, and immersed in each and every moment. You can see more of her work and writing on her blogs at www.bluemusejewelry.com and www.mrsmediocrity.com.