Friday, October 13, 2017

“That’s the big question, the one the world throws at you every morning. ‘Here you are, alive. Would you like to make a comment?’”

~ Mary Oliver, Long Life: Essays and Other Writings

I wake, heavy, under a blanket of pain.

Hello, old friend. It’s been a while.

There have been signs for a few days now: a twinge here, an ache there, a cloud descending. It didn’t occur to me, though. It rarely does.

Maybe it’s a change of weather, a change in something I’ve eaten, an added stressor, who knows. I’ve never been able to figure out a trigger.

I take stock and try to identify the places of pain. That’s hard; it’s everywhere.

Coffee. Coffee will help. Not really, but it will make me feel better, and perhaps ease my headache.

A hot shower, maybe a hot bath later.

Essential oils.

This afternoon, a cup of that expensive tea, sipped slowly, cuddled under a quilt with a book and my pup.

Time.

This too shall pass.

Even in this there are gifts.

Thanks so much for stopping by. I'm here early most mornings with one of my photos and a few words about life and those thin places where faith intersects.
1 comment
  1. Call me crazy, but this photo reminds me of an old/older woman, wearing crepey clothes and dancing. We might be old, withered….but we still dance.

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