Friday, July 22, 2016
Today I am grateful for a surprise heartprint. I have many things I want to write about. One in particular is still germinating in my head, writing itself, yet not ready to be typed in. Others are bouncing around like Bingo balls at the American Legion. But not yet.
I am weary, so I’ll wait. Why weary? Did you catch any of the news about Nice, France and now Munich, Germany, not to mention countless other places of violence or terror in our country and abroad? Did you punish yourself, like I did, by watching the Republican National Convention? I’m surprised we are not all in a coma trying to recover from the screaming, vitriolic anger that assaults us every day. I feel like a misbehaving child who is being screamed at by dad and each time dad starts another tirade, the kid says, “Yeh, but dad, I didn’t. . .it wasn’t that way. . .I don’t believe. . .but what about. . .?. . .” but dad doesn’t listen. Instead he just screams louder, spitting vile hatred that serves no one. Especially me. Or you.
Yes, I am weary. So imagine my joy this morning, when I stepped into the hall, heading to the kitchen to make my tea. The sun was at just the right angle, bouncing off of a heart shaped mirror, splashing the reflection on a wall that never, ever sees sun. I felt much needed joy. Small. Peaceful. Simple. Unexpected, quiet, joy.
I am grateful for the silence of the surprise heartprint. For me. And you.