After many years of grief and, yes, trauma, this last year has been a reservoir of peace, and for this, I am thankful. Perhaps the peace come from my attitude, newly grown from meditation and increasing age. Maybe it is the vantage point of seeing things in the long run and being able to put ‘stuff’ in context. Maybe it’s finding this strange energy that fuels me to build on the small moments: a mug of coffee on my winter deck, a view of Baltimore from the top of Federal Hill, watching my daughter hug her friend. Or maybe it’s the way my puppy snuggles back-to-back when we sleep. Maybe it’s the calming down of heart and mind to find a silent few minutes to write at my desk, the sun slanting in to greet my words as they birth.
I don’t know. I just feel peace and, yes, some joy, and damn it, I am going to hang on to these feelings as long as I can.
So today, I will keep singing as I make my pies and cranberry relish, as the turkey starts smelling up the house, making my animals circle around my legs, whining.
So before I open my emails, before I read the news and see what destructions have spattered people and places, before I open facebook and twitter and my forums to find personal tragedies revealed, I will keep this intention:
For the small moments.
THEY are life.