Today I fell in love with a poem by Hafiz – “The beauty of the mountain is talked about mostly from a distance…”
I baked chocolate chip cookies because sometimes everything is wrong with the world and baking is one way I can put some tiny corner of it right.
I sat in a hospital with one of my best friends, chatting about art and life and other inanities to while away the hours waiting for a doctor.
I kissed my darling Rose, who has the flu, on her cheek. I wiped Poppy’s nose – she also has the flu. I nursed and nursed again.
I read two articles about focusing that spoke to me, one about bringing more awareness to your sensations of pain to help reduce the intensity of the message (The Paradox of Pain) and another about compassionately engaging with your inner critic (How to Stop Being Bullied – By Yourself).
I’ve done what I’ve done for so much of my life – been the support person, learned, reflected, organised, been present in many different ways, imperfectly but sufficiently. Tended.
My garden is full of dead roses and jonquils and the first of the weeds brought out by the rains. I cleaned up the backyard recently so Poppy could play and Star who is injured, would have a nice place to sit outdoors that’s close by.
There’s a lot of pain in my world of late, but there’s also peace and even contentment. Some mornings it’s taking me an hour of crying to get out of bed. I’m training my thoughts towards the beautiful things in my life. Giving myself rests between holding up the sky. Writing in my journal with my bone pen. Falling in love with ancient poems. Meditating upon what it is to be human.