Breathe. Love.Posted: May 26, 2012
OK, I’m snapping out of it. Or, slowly emerging from my post-funeral “funk”. I find I am a person who needs to step back and breathe now and then. Mood re-calibration is not always instantaneous.
Yesterday I went out walking for hours. I had a couple of errands and so walked with some purpose, and then I walked with no purpose except to breathe in the beauty of the world.
I looked up into trees, because I love tree canopies, so many twisting but sturdy branches and the tender refreshing greenery of new spring leaves. Ahhh. Birdies flitting and singing, light alighting here and there, and then there is the tree bark, textured, rough. Sometimes I touch it as I stand staring up into the tree. Sometimes I touch a leaf, paper thin and soft, or heavy and glossy. This might appear loony to passersby but I am beyond caring about such things; beauty keeps me sane, I am sure of it. Pity others who hurry by without seeing beauty and taking it into themselves.
There were many dog walkers out, and many of the poor doggies wore coats much too warm for the weather. I must have seen at least fifty dogs and their masters. (Yes, who is walking whom? Sometimes it is hard to tell.) Not one dog walked with more than one person. Hmmm. Makes me wonder how many lonely people get dogs instead of people. Dogs are easy to love. They are easier to manage emotionally and ask less, emotionally.
I found a small heart-shaped slate stone, dark grey-black with a white line like the beginning of a crack or the sewing of a small seam. I don’t look for heart-shaped stones, they just are there sometimes when I look down. For instance, when I got out of the car at the cemetery there was a heart-shaped stone at my feet, all by its lonesome on the blacktop road. It looks to be carved out of granite, and is near perfect, precise. It has a heft and a strength to it, though it is small.
I like to believe that I’m being told that Somebody loves me, or something along the lines of: “Keep on, tender heart,” but of course I have a vivid imagination and it is better to believe that one is anonymously loved than to feel unloved. If there is a connectivity to the universe then what better way to feel connected than to feel love? What better message from a loving God than “You are Loved”?
And, loved regardless of frailties, confusion, sadness, pain, and regardless of starting life as if over again…