Tonight I confess that I am having a hard time sitting still long enough to write. What I’d really like, after having had a few late nights over the past few days, is to go to bed. But I have a bit more I need to do before I can take my rest.
I have started tonight’s blog about a half dozen times so far. I haven’t managed to land on a theme I can expound upon. My tired brain holds a mish-mash of thoughts that I can’t seem to assemble into any form of coherence. This has happened before, of course. I suppose it could be considered writer’s block or some other force that renders relatively creative people temporarily incapable of producing anything whatsoever. I fear this evening finds me in that state.
I am grateful for many things this evening, in spite of my relative inability to craft words into sentences, string sentences together into paragraphs and paragraphs into a completed product. I am grateful for the food sitting comfortably in my stomach and the knowledge that I need only get up and go downstairs to the kitchen should I get hungry and want more. I have had moments over the past months when I didn’t have very much in the fridge or freezer or pantry, but I always had something I could eat and have never run out of food altogether to the point of not knowing when or what I might eat next. How fortunate I am considering how many people in this country–probably right here in this city–don’t have enough to eat. I see it every week that I volunteer at the Berkeley Food Pantry: people for whom those two bags of groceries and bread and fresh produce is a godsend.
I am grateful for the strength that keeps me going, the sheer will and determination that keeps me moving forward when I want to sit down and quit. It is the same strength that I see in various members of my family, who grit their teeth, put their head down and push through the obstacles that would hinder them on their journey. Perseverance, strength of will, and persistence. Resilience to bounce back after a fall and keep going. These are not hard-edged qualities; it is quite possible to possess gentleness of spirit and unyielding determination. As I picture in my mind’s eye the faces of my siblings, of their children, of my children I see such strength manifested in myriad ways as individual as they are, and yet as familiar to me as my own. Oh yes, we are family and we spring from strong roots. I am grateful to be among a group of such wonderful, powerful people.
I am in prayer and hope that calmer days are ahead–I seem to live on the edge of chaos and tumult a great deal of the time. And while I am grateful to be exercising the muscles of perseverance, of flexibility and adaptability to rapidly changing conditions, resilience, and the many other qualities whose virtues I extolled earlier, I would be content to rest those muscles for a bit. Until then I will take each moment as it presents itself, as best I can, remembering to be compassionate, patient, and kind to myself in the process.
Tonight I am listening to the mourning dove call. Among all the evensongs that are alive tonight, her mournful call is new. I have heard mourning doves often, but this is the first time I can remember hearing one out here. I love the night sounds. Turkeys calling to one another as they prepare to roost for the night, the shrill last trilling calls of the juncos, the rhythmic chirping of crickets and other night insects. I think I will enjoy them for a few moments longer then I will go take my rest. I know I said I have work to do, and I do. But it will have to keep until tomorrow. Tonight, I’m going to rest.
My apologies for my scattered thoughts this evening. I can promise to attempt to do better tomorrow, but cannot guarantee the results. I will meet you here, nonetheless, and together we can perhaps share a moment of gratitude together.
