I feel like I need to write something happy today. This is not because I feel happy. The pretty tree outside my apartment that was adorned in orange leaves is naked. The wind and the rain has washed fall away- not to mention Mr. Day Light Savings who has taken away my sunny evenings. This transition into winter is a hard one for me. I do not like to bundle myself up, It feels constricting. I like t-shirts and blue-jeans and a cool breeze. My friends laugh at me because in the winter I become attached to my goose down thro. I roam around the house, wrapping it around me like a toga. But alas- this is not the end of the world. Winter comes and winter goes- and I should try to see its glory- and perhaps be thankful I have a warm blanket.
Why do we feel burdens on some days more than others? I suppose with elections and war and cold weather, I am due. Burdens have a way of drawing out my longings- that longing to fight against the brokenness.
Annie Dillard- helps me.
"I am a frayed and nibbled survivor in a fallen world, and I am getting along. I am aging and eaten and have done my share of eating too. I am not washed and beautiful, in control of a shining world in which everything fits, but instead am wondering awed about on a splintered wreck I've come to care for, whose gnawed trees breathe a delicate air, whose bloodied and scarred creatures are my dearest companions, and whose beauty bats and shines not in its imperfections but overwhelmingly in spite of them..."
1 comment :
In winter the cycles of life are most clearly pointing toward death and decay... I like to think that the dying earth, decomposing in on itself, is preparing the soil for an even more rich season come spring... that spring and life will bring summer and the harvest. A time of abundance to overflowing with the fruits of our incredible creation... then back to death and decay. Meloncholy and bliss... the natural order is so stark, leaving little room for what we might want, unless of course you move to San Diego?
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