WORDS LIKE LIGHT
Wednesday, August 25, 2021
I hope to keep in mind today that I am always surrounded and softly held by our pretty-as-a-picture universe. Even just sitting at my desk in the early morning, doing my daily writing, I see the striking patterns in the wood of the desk, my moderately graceful handwriting on post-it notes, and the silver shine of my small pencil sharpener in the lamplight. Even if I were in a hospital bed, being treated for a serious illness, I hope I would notice perhaps the appealing patterns in the woodwork, or the way clouds curl and slowly flow across the sky outside the window, or even just the elderly elegance of the hairs on my arms. There is some pleasing splendor in even the saddest situations – the delicate tears of sorrow, the bowed-down beauty of friends consoling friends, the sublime service freely given by first-responders. For sure, this is a bewitching world I’m lucky to be living in, where there’s something stunning in even the simplest moment.
SINGING ALL NIGHT One night a woman heard voices singing inside her. She couldn't seem to stop them. It was as if her mind was spilling songbirds all over her bedroom. The brightness she saw as she walked the floor was the brightness of the suspended stars, the understanding that all she ever needed was with her at this very moment. The voices she heard inside her were the voices of forests on the sides of mountains, and schools of fish celebrating in infinite rivers. They were the songs of minutes made in heaven, of sunglasses so happy on a sunny day.
And here’s a slideshow of some scenes from recent days …