Step Eight: a peek into and a joining up with

My friend Sarah of Goats Milk Lattes invited her friends and readers to write about the beautiful things in an effort to offer balance to a “time” which can be overwhelmingly bleak.  For Sarah, and her heart, I offer this. 


I love a stunning sunrise, light peeling away the slumber of night – joyous colours spreading their fingers across a vast and quiet sky. I love the ocean – murky blue-green murmurings crashing in upon one another, mesmerizing. I love a cloud happy sky, light and shadow and light. These are beautiful things to my eye. But my memories of them fade out into a soft nothing and I am none the wiser.

I read touching stories of young people doing astonishingly empathetic acts of kindness in the face of adversity, in the face of threat, and rejection. I am moved, sometimes to tears. These are beautiful things to my heart. And yet I cannot recall a particular detail as regards these stories and haven’t the tongue to share them once they pass out of my purview. I am left dumb to their song.

I find a scrap of ripped up paper in a nook of my purse – preparing to toss it out with the other garbage collected up there – I catch a glimpse of a rough crayon scrawled note “I love yu Mum.” My heart is a pang, my eyes a full bloom. It isn’t the sky or the ocean which drives the roughhewn edges of joy into my spirit – but the little, unexpected fullness of love found in the tiniest corners. I think on these things.


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