Last week I wrote about letting yourself be a process, too, just like the life you’re making and the meaning you’re making through it.
I think about a process being one step at a time but then, sometimes, I wonder about everything happening all at once.
What if life is actually everything happening all at once, not compartmentalized and controlled but fluid and full, each task wed to another, each sadness and delight related?
It’s this sense of wholeness and belonging that creates a sense of awe in me, and I thought: if you can be in awe of your life every day — be in awe of everything — then you have a lot of source material for your thankfulness.
You have a lot to talk about. You have reverence, true respect for the time you’re given and the ordinary that holds everything in it, too.
You have enough, right in this moment. Even in this moment, as you are, after everything.
It’s this wonderment and awe and appreciation that I wanted to write about today, that I wanted very much to share with you.
I wanted you to try to understand how I felt this weekend, in a moment where everything felt like it meant something.
Being in awe of the little things that exist and happen and are, is a kind of therapy. It means to be an active participant in the breath you take and the world you live in and all that’s come before you to make anything right now possible.
Being in awe of not just the big achievements and the perfect timing and the day when you don't hurt anymore, but of the in-between places. That’s what this poem is about, because maybe, meaning is something you make.
What I Find In Between
I find mercy in the wind
Coming through the window cracked open
To the world,
The fern receiving the call to movement,
I find forgiveness and strength
In my mother’s crooked hands
Tending the plants, washing her mother’s floors —
I find grace in ways I never asked for,
In the things I never wanted.
I find experience the highest calling.
I find myself alive again, and I can say
Even if I don’t wholly mean it yet.
There was something about the color of the ocean
In the stretched-out place I found a poem and disharmony
All the same.
I saw death and life before it was
Even noon today.
I find emotions I haven’t found the words for yet,
My breath gets caught on
Ten thousand things.
. . .
Look around and tell me:
What are you in awe of right now, and how is being in awe of that a reminder to you to stop, open your heart, and find meaning right here in this in-between place?
Tell me in the comments. I'd really love to know.
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