Kind promise: I will share strengths.
I’ve been conscious, lately, of losses in physical ability. I have been feeling ill and hopeless. At times like this, I notice the tears waiting behind my eyes, the lump rising in my throat, the weariness weighing down my limbs. It increases my sense of overwhelm and despair. The sadness is there. The sadness is no problem.
Notice also the box of wildflowers on the deck. Delicate and complicated red and purple ones (Columbine?) cascade over the edges. Bold brown buttons arrange golden petals around themselves. There is beauty. Faced with such a glorious call, how can I not respond?
I reach for my paintbox. I reach for my pencil. I reach for words. I reach for meaning.
The hopelessness drops away like a seed covering burst by a growing plant. Illness becomes inconsequential. Life wraps me in comfort and joy. Amen.