one year ago today

I took this photo.

at the farm.

and tomorrow

I hope to take some more like it.

The farm is where I go to remind myself that I am whole.

No matter what is happening or not happening in my life.

I never look at this gift

and think it's there because I deserve it.

I remember that this gift is grace.

And that like all gifts,

it could disappear at anytime

but that does not mean that I could disappear at anytime.

This is an important distinction.

It means that no one can decide my fate without me participating in the decision making process, unless I am physically incapacitated, which I am not.

As I said to a friend of mine tonight,

"I am letting the thoughts run through me but not let them to run me off the road."

For in all crises, in all departure, there is confusion. One must cycle through hundreds of conversations to try and make sense of the most recent one.

It's a strange fact.

But after all the ticker tape there can be pattern, and then,

answer.

Or at least an answer you can be comfortable with wearing.

For a spell.

It's like a spell. A faerie ring. The dance is so joyful, ecstatic, and then it's exhausting and you're treacherously bound to the movement, pushing on beyond all physical limits.

i would like to remember you as you were

pretty and decorated and mine

a space I created from a long neglected one

~

I'm glad,

and grateful,

that memory plays tricks on us.

Going to the farm month after month, season after season, year after year,

means I can always see it anew.

Comments

[beckie]

I'm grateful that memories play tricks on us, too. Not only so that we can see things anew and run forward, but so that we can look back without bitterness, but with understanding.