another day

being human, we hold this tension:  being at once amazing one-of-a-kind creatures of inestimable value with flashes of eternity inside our bones AND living daily life shared with billions of others just like us on the planet.

we walk this line between living each moment and appreciating it as if it were our last AND the routine of living and knowing we'll probably keep right on eating, sleeping, shopping, driving, cleaning and cooking (and doing all those things that are never done and come back around again and again) for hopefully a very long and enjoyable time here.  i thought about all of this in early morning while pruning back the old raspberry canes for fall to make room for the new shoots.

for example, there was this amazing sunset last night and, when i was out and about, i looked over to see what i thought was a lady capturing it with her camera.  this gave a feeling of universal kinship with nature until, upon closer inspection, i noticed she was actually taking a selfie with her phone while smoking a cigarette in front of a thrift store.  it didn't make the sunset any less amazing, i just wish she would have noticed it because i think it might have made her feel happy and connected.

mary oliver, a living poet with whom i do feel a kinship with nature, writes, "Lord, when i sleep, i feel You near.  when i wake, and You are already wiping the stars away, i rise quickly, hoping to be like Your wild child the rose, the honey-maker the honey-vine; a bird shouting its joy as it floats through the gift you have given us:  another day."

and so i agree, thank you for the stuff of stars in our skin and breath, the holiness in our chores and the feathers in our plodding; the incredible lightness of being that comes with being tethered here awhile.  and so this wild child greets another day!