there was a girl who taught me to love the sky, except the lesson took a long time to catch, years after the girl was gone. i didn’t understand what she meant about loving the sky until i moved away and came back and looked at the same sky differently because i’d been living beneath another sky far away. i never miss that girl, but now i miss that sky every day.
there was a boy i was afraid to talk to. fear isn’t quite the right descriptor. (neither is boy.) but over a decade i talked to him only the few times i felt tequila brave or when he initiated the conversation. both coincided on monday night and our topics reached deep and wide, as if compressing years of conversations we never had.
there was a photo i found of me in the future, face washed out and brightened with light from within. i practice beaming love through my eyes and smile each day in order to become her.
there was a raccoon dumpster-diving when i took out my recyclables last night. when i stopped to watch her, she hopped toward me and started growling. i stamped my foot and told her “no!” because i don’t like being growled at by any person or animal. then two itty bitty baby raccoons (the smallest i’ve ever seen) jumped from the dumpster and ran into the woods. i softened toward her growling the moment i understood she was protecting her children. i hope to soften toward the next person who growls at me while seeking to understand the reason for the growling.
there was a fox trotting across the yard last night. fox sightings add a full point to my rating for any day. i’ve taken to rating most things that happen during my days on a 10-point scale because i’m generous with point accrual and the rating helps me appreciate each aspect of my life more while highlighting the parts that most benefit from improvement.
there was a book of literature i tried rereading recently. i stopped on page five because life slips quickly through fast moving years and there are more books to be read in this lifetime than i’ll be able to finish before dying (even if i live to be 103) so i’ve decided i don’t have time for rereading dusty french classics.
there was a piece of art i transformed by layering my art on top after midnight when i couldn’t sleep. folk art, recycled art, trash art, mixed media collage….whatever you call it, i’m drawn to make it.
there was a girl (three, actually) i saw and heard play music and the music smoothed and enlivened my pulse. i wanted to tell her (all three) but i couldn’t think of words for my tongue to accompany the song in my heart that feels gratitude larger than words can contain…that’s what art is for.