The silence between the notes

Even after the rain, With plants that were never meant  For bouquets, We can find beauty. Sort of like in life, In times that we never imagined  We would face, Growth can be beautiful. So maybe beauty comes less  From sweet fragrance  Or visual charm.  Maybe it comes more  From the way  We grow with the weeds  And the rain. *I shared a version of this to a private page on May 27,  and today I decided I wanted to include it in this “collection” on my blog.

Since my new job involves a LOT of driving, I've recently found myself reflecting on the strangely satisfying things that happen when you spend too much time in the car.  1) When the tempo of the song lines up with the tempo of your turn signal.  2) When the guy who cut you off a mile ago gets stuck in a slow lane and you casually pass him by.  3) When two or three cars pull out of adjacent streets or parking lots at the exact same moment. (Like in a spy movie!) 4) Trying out a hidden back road or shortcut...and making it out alive! 5) Finally knowing a new route well enough that you don't need to use MapQuest anymore.  6) Actually taking a moment (or twenty) to notice the changing autumn landscape as you drive by.  7) A great excuse to try lots of different restaurants and coffee stands as you drive between locations.  8) Getting to say "yeah, I've been there" when someone mentions an obscure location.  9) When you park at your destination and the son...

The problem is...that I love many things in life.  And most of the things I love require time, practice, dedication, and commitment in order to improve or to benefit others.  So it doesn't feel like I have enough time to do them all as well as I'd like.  At least, not all at the same time.  I find myself focusing on 2 or 3--OK, I find myself sacrificing sleep, exercise, and family time so that I can focus on 4 or 5 at a time--but it still seems like there's never enough time to be truly accomplished in anything I'm attempting. This little blog is a great example:  I never intended to blog weekly but it's been 7 months since I "published" anything and that is MUCH longer than I'd expected to wait!  Truth be told, I drafted two pieces this spring but never published them because I just didn't have time to refine them. And, of course, I want them to be acceptable to the two or three people who are likely to see them! So I decided to share my wish ...

In other days, it was a softer fall. Rustling, slipping, drifting From branch to earth. It was a peaceful fall, A gentle death. Comforted by the soil Which had nourished them Through roots and branches. But now? Do they know? Do they see what some will meet? The hard-formed ground that was not made for them. The grey. The black. The white. The dirt which cannot nourish Or cradle them as they fade. Do they feel what this day brings? Do they long for other days?

As the forest fades into the trees, Open yourself toward the sky. Invite the clearing.