October 26, 2017
I’m back in my couch today. It’s a sunny, but cold day, and I have pulled a blanket over me and one cat has crawled on that.
I’m content right now, in a way I wasn’t when the couch seemed to be my 24/7 home. I have a warm cup of coffee, some seasonal candy I shouldn’t be eating but that compliments the coffee so well. I’m looking up at a wall that holds two paintings I love dearly by two women that I also love dearly.
I’m content not because of any thing, nor even despite anything. I am content because I am content.
The wind and the traffic are a low and distant symphony, a backdrop to the clicking of the keys of my computer, but they aren’t taking my brain anywhere it doesn’t need to go.
The world seems hard these days; hard and jagged like the walls of mountains that have been carved for highways, like they are trying to snag your clothes and rip your flesh grown whisper thin with age. So it makes sense that as I stood before my closet this morning, I spoke out loud the words of my heart: “what soft and cozy thing will I find here today.”
Yesterday included a funeral, perhaps that is why I’m stopping for a moment in this soft, cozy space, while the cat’s ears prick up at the sound of the men mowing our yard (more noise for the symphony). I’m thinking of how hard it is, this life we have, even when we have options for soft and cozy. I’m remembering that not everyone has that respite; not many have it as often as I do. Sometimes it is because the world is awful in its treatment of people who need help. Sometimes it is because people don’t know they need help. Sometimes it is a willful choice to run from thing to thing, creating spaces that, even if soft, aren’t cozy.
The world is hard. Life is hard. Being a parent is hard. Being a sibling is hard. Creating a meaningful life that doesn’t ripple a few ponds, is not all that likely.
Today, I decided to put my heartbreak aside, to settle into an old friend, and just … be.
As the old saying would go if I were saying it, if you don’t have a minute to meditate, meditate for an hour.
I’m reminding myself by imploring of you, if prayer is your thing, if walking in nature is your thing, if listening to the lawn mower make rounds in the distance is your thing, if gazing at art is your thing, find your way to unplug from the consistent noise of the world that rings of negativity and woe.
Find your center. Find the beauty. Find the quiet place where you feel enveloped maybe not by the love you receive but by all that you give. It matters. It matters to me that you find yourself in a soft, cozy space every once in a while–even as the gas leaf blower sounds outside the window (and I mean right outside the window) while you are trying to pontificate about the need for that quiet space.
Because quiet is relative. Cozy is relative. Soft, too, is relative.
But love is like the wind we sometimes forget is blowing until it ruffles our hair or bends the tall grass back toward the ground. And it is so, so, so important to feel that wind these days, to remember we are love, embodied, and our most important job is to remind others that they are, too.
And then pick up the heartbreak once more and get back to the job of making the world a little softer, especially for those for whom the world is always searing and craggy.