The peonies at our house bloomed this week, bursting onto the scene with the fanfare of a chorus line. A hundred or more voluptuous beauties, as fragile as they are flamboyant, in all shades of cream and palest pink and scarlet, each one worthy of its own lipstick shade or rare perfume label. For a day or two they hold their heavy heads up high and I snap photo after photo — trying, in vain of course, to somehow capture their brief moment of perfection. And then, too soon, always too soon, the heavy heads bow toward the ground, brought…
I suspect I’m not the only one feeling a little wary and vulnerable in my skin these days. A week after the Boston bombings, as people across the nation paused yesterday afternoon to observe a moment of silence at 2:50, I stood alone in my own quiet kitchen, sad and somewhat at a loss for what to do next. There is so much in my life to be grateful for. No one I know was injured last week. All my loved ones are fine. Nothing visible in my world has changed. And yet, I find myself blinking back tears at…
I try, pretty much every morning, to be present for the dawn, even if it’s only to stand outdoors shivering in my flip flops and pajamas, gazing eastward. Often I snap a photo as the sun makes its entrance, amazed always at the silent miracle: the gift of another day. Although I tend to wake up with all sorts of emotions already swirling through my consciousness, indifference is never one of them. Instead – and I don’t think I’m alone in this – I’m often as not overcome with a wild brew of feelings as I stand on my small…
I’ve sometimes wondered if I’ll spend the rest of my life missing my sons as the little boys they used to be. Even now, though it’s been years since I reminded anyone to look both ways, the sight of a mom crossing the street hand-in-hand with a little guy with sleep-tufted hair and rolled up jeans fills my eyes with sudden, unbidden tears. Arriving at an elementary school to give a talk one morning not long ago, watching parents bending low to kiss their children good-bye, observing the sea of bobbing backpacks, the bright art on the walls, the exuberance…
March 18, 2013 – 10:05 am
You have traveled too fast over false ground; Now your soul has come to take you back. Take refuge in your senses, open up To all the small miracles you rushed through. Become inclined to watch the way of rain When it falls slow and free. Imitate the habit of twilight, Taking time to open the well of color That fostered the brightness of day. Draw alongside the silence of stone Until its calmness can claim you. ― John O’Donohue, from “A Blessing for One Who is Exhausted” Hard as it is for my…
