I still feel beset by the torrents that fell in the past few days, the walls of water that seemed endless. I am quiet now, after the moments of ending. Sitting here, I imagine how the last leaves of autumn parted from their familiar trees. I know we all face a moment resembling that, face it will more or less dignity than those tired, dirty, yellow leaves.
In this longer autumn, I notice I sink into bleak aging - the small changes in my body and my mind seem to be magnified and to sit uneasily within me. Oh, I suppose this is not uncommon, passing as I am into the middle-sixties. I am aware of the richness and blessing that surrounds me - just as I am aware of the incessantly transitory nature of this cycle. If I am completely honest (am I?), I will own the pungent mix of fear, aversion, with just a touch, a minor key, of wonder.
There it is - so small, so common, so human. I wonder: will acknowledging this melody in its full richness bring some version of comfort? And my answer is that it will - when I am able to add my gratitude for all the known and hidden blessings that fill my life to overflowing, even within my bleakness. As ever, it is a choice. I will breath and stay connected to my hope. I pray that balance and understanding and courage and even comfort and joy will come to me, and to you as well.
Indeed, my deepest blessings to you
Marco
