it's a beautiful rain. a beautiful day. quiet on the inside, loud and full and moving all around me outside. the sky is shouting and the water is falling and the ground and the leaves are nosily receiving it- all slap and muffled at once. it keeps things in place- keeps me in place. still. i am receiving it too. it's what we do. we take life as it comes to us. each day- we don't know what it will bring or take or give or ask- we don't.
today i look at my life, but i can only see it from now- from where i am here. today at 1:39 pm in uganda on my porch with my big dog and a mother red tail monkey and her babies in the tree in front, in the rain drowning out all and any other sounds.
today, two days shy of having lived here, in this place, for 3 years. today, with my kids all back in school and the routine and adjustments that go with that.
today after 21 years of marriage to a man who still amazes me. today when we have power after 3 days with none.
today when i am checking my email every hour for updates on a loved one who is awaiting pathology results, on the other side of that ocean.
today, after clinic and studying for the internal medicine board re-certification exam, even though i feel to old to be studying.
today with the laundry just pulled of the line and strung now around the house. today with a cup of coffee and fresh banana bread.
today when i woke up rose and she smiled and said, "i didn't pee my bed mama!" today where zoe gets up more easily than last year and we see the small shifts and changes as she grows up on her own trajectory, following her own path.
today when i kissed my kids heads as they left for the long drive to school and breathed a prayer of protection over them.
today, which is only half baked. today which still holds beautiful and awful things maybe; cuts and falls and sweets and playing; and hugs and maybe tears; and homework and dinner and feeding animals and doing dishes- all those things that are precious- just because they are. those moments- those people- those smells and sounds and feelings- they are precious. when we stop and listen and notice, when we pay a bit of attention we are so richly blessed. because even the sad parts are valuable. even the hard parts can bring us somewhere- can move us and give us shape. we are being carved here- worn and whittled- smoothed and softened- and made hopefully, to be more gentle with each other, more understanding of what we find so different in our todays, to be more like the one who made the rain and the ground that receives it; more noticing, more holding, more open to what comes, more giving of what we can, and more able to love and be loved.
today i look at my life, but i can only see it from now- from where i am here. today at 1:39 pm in uganda on my porch with my big dog and a mother red tail monkey and her babies in the tree in front, in the rain drowning out all and any other sounds.
today, two days shy of having lived here, in this place, for 3 years. today, with my kids all back in school and the routine and adjustments that go with that.
today after 21 years of marriage to a man who still amazes me. today when we have power after 3 days with none.
today when i am checking my email every hour for updates on a loved one who is awaiting pathology results, on the other side of that ocean.
today, after clinic and studying for the internal medicine board re-certification exam, even though i feel to old to be studying.
today with the laundry just pulled of the line and strung now around the house. today with a cup of coffee and fresh banana bread.
today when i woke up rose and she smiled and said, "i didn't pee my bed mama!" today where zoe gets up more easily than last year and we see the small shifts and changes as she grows up on her own trajectory, following her own path.
today when i kissed my kids heads as they left for the long drive to school and breathed a prayer of protection over them.
today, which is only half baked. today which still holds beautiful and awful things maybe; cuts and falls and sweets and playing; and hugs and maybe tears; and homework and dinner and feeding animals and doing dishes- all those things that are precious- just because they are. those moments- those people- those smells and sounds and feelings- they are precious. when we stop and listen and notice, when we pay a bit of attention we are so richly blessed. because even the sad parts are valuable. even the hard parts can bring us somewhere- can move us and give us shape. we are being carved here- worn and whittled- smoothed and softened- and made hopefully, to be more gentle with each other, more understanding of what we find so different in our todays, to be more like the one who made the rain and the ground that receives it; more noticing, more holding, more open to what comes, more giving of what we can, and more able to love and be loved.
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