Each spring we witness awakenings.
Yesterday morning we woke up to the world being one way and went to bed with it being altered.
The events weren’t personal to me, rather they were a part of a collective experience, events that happened within the bounds of our country that had an indirect impact on many…..the death of a very public and much respected matriarch and the near crash of an airplane full of people.
Both events, I believe, cause for a sort of personal awakening.
Reason to pause and come to an understanding of this quote:
It is possible to experience an awakening in this life through realizing just how precious each moment, each mental process, and each breath truly is.
When I couldn’t sleep last night I ended up down a rabbit hole on FB, having followed a comment on a page I was reading that led me to another comment that eventually took me to a page about a young girl who just lost her life in Texas this past week due to a rare form of cancer.
This morning I stepped outside my door to take these pictures of the signs of spring as it awakens the flowers in my yard, being especially cognizant of these small pleasures and reasons to be thankful for another day of life, a day not given to all.
Each day, unknown to us, we’re surrounded by people who are particularly thankful for each day of awakening and many who are hurting deeply because someone they have loved, has not awakened.
It’s a reason to be kind to everyone we meet.
It’s a reason to stop and admire the flowers around us.
I suppose the older one gets, the more we tend to look more often into the past rather than looking forward into the future.
I did a bit of that a few days ago.
For many years now my husband and I have saved our wine corks, carefully documenting on the cork the date we drank the wine, the location, and the names of the people we enjoyed it with. Throughout the years those corks have found their way into a series of olive jars and bottles, and most recently, a demijohn, as the memories accumulated, a bottle at a time.
I did a bit of rearranging this past week and those jars ended up here, in stronger light than their previous location, which led me to the dumping of those corks and a spring cleaning for their glass receptacles.
When I was in my youth I felt like I didn’t need a specific place to talk to God. I could do that in any setting, whenever I wanted to. I can still remember one very intense afternoon when I had that conversation while walking in the woods.
I still went to mass back then but I resisted it. I was impatient during the service, often glancing at my watch to see how much of the hour was still left before I could leave and continue my day.
I’ve grown much wiser in the intervening years.
I find myself traveling a lot in this season of my life and although I love being in new places and experiencing new things, it always comes down to this….
There’s no place like home.
After living out of a suitcase, and being in a car or in airplanes for hours on end, there’s no place I’d rather be.
Home is where my center is.
Although none of them has ever lived at this particular address and two of my three sons and their families have yet to see the house in person, this is where I’ve gathered all their photos.
Spring Break at South Padre Island in Texas. The pictures tell the story!