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  • Writer's pictureevansph2

This is what life does

Updated: May 23, 2020

This is what life does.

Some days it arrives in a blaze of sunlight and birdsong – and other days it waddles in on a pile of gray clouds and the only song is the garbage truck backing up. Of course, that is a blessing too – You wouldn’t want the garbage truck NOT to arrive. But, you know what I mean… Sunshine and shadows.

Today I am completely sick of “sheltering in place”. I want to be anywhere BUT here in this same old place with my droopy hair and baggy sweatpants – and looking forward to watching Jeopardy. This is not what I want – --

And then I hear my Buddhist teacher say... “Yes, but it’s what you have”. So, then what? Find compassion for yourself and for the current reality you are in. I hear my Mother say. “Go read a book”. “Go outdoors and play”. I don’t want to do those things. What DO you want? She asks. “I dunno”.

What do I want – What do I deeply want? I guess it is to find some equanimity with what is. To meet this day as a friend. This is what life does. It ebbs. It flows. It stalls out. The season of everything has been cancelled. I have an itch I can’t quite scratch. Blow some kisses at the mirror. This is what life does –-- hang on for the ride.

Here is a wonderful piece where the poet Helena Magnusson Ogburn imagines the world talking back to us… telling us to just "be here" and reminds us of who else is on this journey too!



be here 

with me.

Signed: The moon.  The stars.  Your still-hot-cup-of-coffee.  Your  

daughter.  Your son.  Your spouse.  Your heart.  The green grass.  The wild flowers.  The waters you long to swim in.  The color yellow. The color blue. Your favorite poem. Your favorite blanket.  The wind in your hair.  The waves on the ocean.  The mountain air.  Your dad.  Your mom.  The rain.  The ice-cream cone.  The butter sizzling with garlic in the frying pan.  The grocery clerk with sad, kind eyes.  Postcards waiting to be sent.  The city squirrel.  The country squirrel.  Jupiter.  The photo album.  Your grandmother's rosary. Your favorite song.  Ink and paper.  Your best friend.  The money in your wallet.  The fork in your hand.  Brushes and paint.  Downward Facing Dog.  The color turquoise.  The almost invisible shade of pink.  God.  The skyline.  The earth beneath your feet.  A hammock. The shade of a giant tree.  This moment, right here, now.  Your bones.  Your  belly laugh.  Your breath.  Your breath.  Your breath.

- Helena Magnusson Ogburn 

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