conclusion

i have come to the conclusion:

i must be able to continue to hope.

i must be able to continue to see strength.




there should always be more hope...and there is always strength. somewhere.

too late

i just shouldn't have checked my work email tonight. 

sometimes...sometimes it just really feels like it's too late. and no, tonight, i am not referring to the actual time on the clock.

reading this, and finding a bit of peace:

life's not a battle

life's not a battle,

but adventure,

not a test,

but an

experiment

we undertake

with curiosity

because

we want

to know

how something

works.

'tis knowing this

as simple fact

makes all

the difference.

~judy brown

yes. i want to know how something works. lots of somethings.

sanctuary

it is a sanctuary out there, people. a sanctuary. the frogs. the birds. the tiny insects. the heat lightning. the cracks of thunder. the whooshing of water as it crosses the dam. the thick smell of all of things spring- soil, grass, wildflowers, herbs, things new and old, awakening. and the trees- the circle of trees. with a stump just my size. thank God for that. truly.

the light drops of rain on my walk back. the huge, dark, ominous- yet, somehow comforting, sky. my feet planted firmly on the ground. each step. those little drops. little bursts of cleansing.

oh, and lilacs. thank God for those, too.

then the real cleanse comes as i step inside. just as i step inside. down comes the rain. down, down. the thunder cracks a hole in the sky. but it tells me it's okay. somehow this world is infinite and confined at the same time. somehow things are broken and whole at the same time.

somehow his spirit is here. and someday, i think she will smile again. i plant my feet firmly on the ground. for her.