Wednesday, October 6, 2010

entre nous

I read this small little phrase this evening over some fresh-pressed coffee and some tense Zoe Keating bellowing in my quiet home.

{entre nous}

A lovely little French saying for a secret shared between two people. Essentially... between us. 

(Those who speak French, please take it easy on me.)

(a close second beautiful word/phrase is Mamihlapinatapai: A look shared by two people with each wishing that the other will initiate something that both desire but which neither one wants to start. Not French though. Continuing on...)

October is settling in, bringing Autumn as a curious traveler. I feel that sense of shifting. As Sarah Ban Breathnach says, "October is the inbetween."

The haunt of winter is cresting our horizon, the inevitable on its way. The geese who began their trek in the north are arriving here, scattering into ponds and lakes, parks and trails. If you were to visit my home these days, you'd see more burning candles, more apples piled for baking, the sound of a cello luring us into the enchantment, the turning of a page in this home. We are preparing our hearts for the covering. For the white expanse that calls for hiding and hibernation.

Of course, chances are we won't see much of the white stuff here in Texas. But the chill has a way of sending you indoors, under blankets, into a room for waiting. For a season to hold steady and wait, to let our roots go deep.  

This season of entre nous. Of intimate moments. Keeping warm, both our hands and hearts. 

Time for stories, the ones we love to tell and the ones we wish to forget.

Nights when I stir in solitude, wishing everyone I love could be here, sharing this beauty with me. 

Long, dark mornings of hushed piano, my soul whispering over my breath into the air, turning into prayer somewhere in the cool.

Yes, how could I forget? This is October. This is the inbetween. This is my time of entre nous. 

With you. With God. With me.

Ever been inbetween?

  • the final decision still written in pencil
  • the check has yet to be deposited
  • waiting on that reply
  • you're convinced if you mutter that prayer one more time, you might lose your mind
  • feeling that last bit of strength is ready to give out

(Between me and you. I feel that way too.) 

{entre nous}

1 comment:

  1. this post = yum.
    i think october is my new favorite month. and thank the Lord for little to no snow in texas.