We move most of the time between yes and no,
Between jaw-dropping wonder at the beauty of it all and wincing horror at life’s constant tragedies.
We wake up with sweet gratitude for our partners and children
We tip between being so thankful for our running water and heated homes to desires for bigger bathtubs and radiant floor heating.
The 9-5 job that can many times feel like a godsend – nice people, worthwhile work – can at other times feel like a rock in life’s stream, impeding more creative projects.
In California, driving from the redwoods to the ocean, we drove past fields of cows, each one more bucolically lovely than the last. When we came to a clear, running stream, I stopped the car, got out and dipped my hand in the cold water. Kneeling by the stream in who-knows-where, Marin County, I cried. Shot through with the simple beauty – the golden fields, the blue water, the black and white cows.
I am divided by the longing to live by this stream to the end of my days and also by the belief that folding clothes, making soup, and walking the dog are their own acts of breathtaking beauty. We just forget to pull over to the side to notice them.