Monday, February 12, 2018

For Days

The camellias were growing next to the kitchen window when we moved here. Actually, they were struggling to grow... they had too little sun, and too much standing water, so we moved the tall shrub, and crossed our fingers. Happily, the shrub has rallied, and now, eight years later, we are enjoying a really bountiful season of bright pink, lightly fragrant, multi-petaled blossoms. I affixed a flower in Maria's braid, for the Pink Martini concert.

All of the garden is in bloom, and over and over, again, I gaze, in awe, and wish I could sing, or write the poem, or paint the picture, that could express my joy and wonder, my humility in the face of such beauty and fortune. For days, I have been smitten, and speechless, yet pensive, over beauty and kindness. For days, I've been sad, too, because the world feels less familiar, less kind, and it's a constant push against the dead weight of hostility, a culture of divisiveness, enmity. Even the idea of feeling sad can seem to me like an indulgence, for my part. But that, too, is part of the weight, the stress of trying to be good, and do good, and remain hopeful, and carry on resiliently, effectively.

Saturday, at the start of a long drive, I noticed a panel on the side of my Odyssey was flapping. I pulled over and we all got out to investigate. Alex pulled it back a bit, and a part dropped out, and rolled under my poor car. Sigh. Shockingly, we did not have a roll of duct tape with us... this is so unlike us. We were going to be late to meet Bambi, and we were debating whether we should just pop the panel all the way off, saving it from sheering off along the interstate. Then I realized we were nearby our friends' home.Come on, we're going to Robin and Sean's. They'll have duct tape, or something better we haven't thought of. And they did. They had hugs, and breakfast offers, and laughs, and three colors of duct tape. We got to see James, and just touch base a bit. I even got a custom made, fitted lid for our hanging chicken feeder... I've been trying to devise one for years. I don't think any of this happened to teach me a lesson, and yet... there it is, a bit of bad luck and a whole lot more good luck, kindness, friendship, support, beauty. I am humbled, in awe.

Friends, flowers, dear pets, an invitation to dance, to play percussion, to sing in Arabic, or Japanese, multi-colored duct tapes, an extra ticket to share, a gesture of kindness, an offer of support... I am so thankful to see these, to have resources, to enjoy moments with this side of life. I wish I could sing, or write a poem about sadness and hope, about seeing grace and beauty in spite of grief, sorrow, to raise our thoughts when things get heavy, to project real happiness... I would be so pleased to spread it everywhere, to everyone, for days.