surprising harvests ~ Blog Archive

It’s always a work in progress, just like me, dream or no dream

with every ounce of strength I had, my hands and voice shaking, I told him to leave and not come back

He gives me grace

I was sure I knew him from somewhere, but where?

I say so far as I’m counted as highly vulnerable because of a number of breathing issues, so as soon as lockdown was announced in the UK, I got a letter advising me to stay home, not go out at all, and that I should do so for twelve weeks!

On a road trip, looking out the window, I have found that to stave off the nausea caused by trying to stop the blur and make sense of the foreground brush along strands of rusted barbed wire, I must shift my gaze beyond that blur–to fix my eyes upon what appears distant and unmoving, firmly planted and stable. I am not a citizen of Under-land.

Alone is not what she’d choose if allowed, but what she had offers hope for what she still has left to pursue and accomplish.

I wanted to write about grief…

This “disbelief LIGHT” actually figures in to how likely I am to answer what could be considered a “polite inquiry”, but most of my friends aren’t that shallow and when they ask how I am or what I have been “up to”–they mean it (though they may wish they’d not asked.) It hurts.

I’ve taken that wisdom on board and used it several times recently and I’m shocked at the huge change in both the people I’m interacting with, and also internally, in how I feel about a situation. Let me give you a bit of background…