(photo by Hayley Gordon)
I haven't wanted to turn the lights on all day. It's dusky out and there are the craziest thunder storms overhead, but something about this lighting brings a peace I'd like to stick around.
My foot's mostly healed and I'm back to surfing. I'm taking a skateboarding lesson tomorrow to try to learn how to fall, because apparently there is an art to it that I don't know about yet. It sounds like something you could easily learn on your own, falling safely, but I still like having teachers sometimes. I like to know how they teach and I like getting to know who they are, plus the awkwardness I worry about when meeting new people easily slips away because you both need each other and there's something specific to talk about.
I think everything you said helped me get better. Thank you. Now knowing that someone I love is very sick, I am comforted by the fact that the loving thoughts of others might carry some weight against illness.
Scott and I have been playing Chicken Foot with Dominoes lately. Next, Mexican Train, but the directions were confusing, so we'll have to give it another try once we take a break from the chicken game. We have this version of Dominoes. Do you know any other fun games to play with them?
This morning when the thunder was cracking I was looking for peace in my house away from the storm and then I was looking for peace again in the ocean after I got the bad news about sickness and a family friend and then I want peace to find us at night with the TV off and the game out. And I know I just said peace in the same sentence three times, but I'm just going to leave it because it seems to be the word of the day.
Here is a bit of a poem I wanted to share on the subject. I saw it on instagram the other day and I'm still trying to absorb its possible meanings, but the first line is what got me.
THE WANT OF PEACE
by Wendell Berry
All goes back to the earth,
and so I do not desire
pride or excess or power,
but the contentments made
by men who have had little:
the fisherman's silence
receiving the river's grace,
the gardener's musing on rows.