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After the storm.

Thursday November 29, 2018

The storm passed last night and into the early hours of the morning with a soft roar and the swelling crescendo of windchimes on my back porch. It was too much for me to stay inside and watch through the window. Too much dancing wind and earth scent to be part of out there. So, with coffee in hand, I saluted the day.

The grass is coming in where dried “hay” used to be, moss is greening on the rocks and the birds have found the seed platter. I fill up with this moment.

When I sit to write, for about 3 seconds, I remember that I need to put the rest of the plants out to catch some rain. That done, again at the table to write, I remember that I have laundry that needs changing and a dishwasher needing to be emptied. After watering the rest of the plants, resetting the dryer and refilling my cup, I am struck with something to write!

Sometimes it is all the little things that seem to divert us from what we are “supposed to be doing” that are in fact, where our joy and comfort come from, not to mention - inspiration. It is when we are no longer able to ‘choose’ to be diverted or even bothered by these trifles that we feel such great loss. It is all the little things that we miss… that we are afraid of losing. It is harder to fill the little holes left when they go.

After the Camp Fire, after death of a loved one, after the kids leave home, it is truly just the little things that we miss and swear, if we could just get one more moment… we could let go...

It is not the boat, the bed, the new roof that we miss; it is the comfort we felt, the familiar sound and scent; it is who we thought we were because of it.

And, we realize that in death, as in life, these moments are all we have. The rest is just a diversion.