A thought, driving through the silent falling snow yesterday morning, wanting to stop and have a look, frost-style, but urged forward by an impatient honking soul, ran something like this:
sudden beauty laced
with sorrow, conjoined twins
Missing a syllable, and not sufficiently precise, the thought that humans know beauty, have always known beauty, our uneven trade-off for the burdens and tribulations of daily human consciousness.
For weeks now, I have been wintered in and feeling depressed again, without an interval of cheer. But when I drove home later on, after about 4 inches of fluffy accumulation, wondering if I would make it up the drive~~lo and behold!~~someone had plowed my driveway. I swear I smiled for about 20 minutes. I have no idea who did this for me, obviously a neighbor, but I don't really know any of my neighbors. I love the secret good deed, wish that I could learn to posses the humility to pass on good deeds without looking for gratitude, reciprocation, credit.
Today I feel like an impostor. I am so estranged from my own spirituality, other than snow-watching (which does count, I suppose). Working takes things that I have no right to give and can't really live without. I have to get this right at some point. I am longing to re-discover a place that I have at least visited where mystery is wonder, history has meaning, I am nothing, silence is everything, and life is precious.
I am truly blogging to save my life these days. And trying to revise my manuscript, incorporate some exercise into my day, fit in a haircut and take my car in for service and get my refrigerator fixed, and hold on to a bit of equanimity.
Ah, equanimity. I long for nothing so much as this.