Without light, darkness would be everlasting
Like winter and spring.
War and peace.
Death and life.
Love and loss.
Today I've had some of each.
My writing group met. As always, the friendship can't help fill our section of Panera with laughter and light.
But even the laughter couldn't hide the pain in Diane's eyes. You can reach out touch her grief.
I want my old life back, her mother told her.
Well, I want mine back too, Diane responded. Knowing there was no going back.
She's yet to find her new life.
She will. The light will shine in her world again. Maybe not as brightly as with her beloved Wally. Maybe not as soon as she'd like. This is her winter. Her time to hunker down, fight against the cold on days that grow dark at 5 pm.
Marilyn is facing some real physical and financial hardships right now. Never a good mix. Yesterday a beam of light brought hope that she's found a doctor who will address her problems.
Bella and I got ready for a walk this afternoon. When we walked outside I noticed the sky on one side of the building was blue, and dark grey on the other. The wind blew the rain in our direction so we turned right around and back inside. A couple hours later, we walked along the river, no rain in sight. White clouds hovered overhead.
I recently watched the movie A Perfect Storm. I'd seen it before so I knew what was going to happen. What I didn't remember was the way dark ocean tossed the the fishing boat around. I'm sure it was all computer generated stuff, and the waves were probably bigger for effect. On any given day that's the way I feel. I'm the boat, my home the ocean. Some days it's smooth sailing. Other days, like my afternoon with Bella, the dark waters build into a surprise tempest. I can't judge when the storm will come or from what direction. I try to keep my balance, but find, often times without a life jacket, all I can do is hold onto the nearest buoy and pray for peace and look to the beam of light I know is there somewhere.
A couple of weeks ago as the tempest at home was building itself into hurricane strength, Bella fell off a counter and landed on a tile floor, on her head. Yeh, I know .... ouch. There is much to be grateful for. First, she checked out just fine. Second, I wasn't at work. For days afterward, I thought about how easily things could have been different. I told myself, "Bella could have died today." How's that for putting life into perspective? In the big scheme of things, does it make sense to stay so wound up over too much testosterone and not enough gumption?
I came across this gem from Martha Beck daily inspiration.
"I respectfully do not care."
Problem is I do.
Turning off the light and tucking myself in,