“And do you really believe God is with you no matter what? That you are not alone, that you don’t have to be you all by yourself? Here’s to being where you already are. Fully present with all that is true. And then here’s to doing your next right thing in love.”
~Emily P. Freeman, The Next Right Thing Podcast #188
Yes, indeed. I believe this more and more every day. With three surgeries in one month — two for my cataracted eyes, and another abdominal surgery for my husband, we are feeling more ephemeral in our house.
These thoughts of vulnerability aren’t making me worried or sad, but instead I believe they make me live more intentionally. More fully here. More often saying, “This is the day to love.”
Thank you, Ramona, for the link to Emily’s podcast. It was as you described, and I’ve enjoyed thinking about where I am these days. And thank you for hosting this group today.
Now, here I sit at the Toyota dealer, for what is going on the
sixth seventh hour. I’m writing a poem on napkins with a borrowed pen and editing the rest of this post on my phone. Being here.
You Have the Right to Be Here
Yesterday I crashed into you.
My reaction was reflexive, “I have
to move over” as I heard a
car horn blast from behind. I jumped right
into you: the curb designed to
keep me in my lane. How can I still be
afraid to hold my space and remain present?
Fortunately, I got off with just a
blown tire and broken rim, right
there I was – – pinballing to the roadside to
regroup. Then today I sit at the dealer and attend,
waiting as things are fixed, enjoying a
grilled cheese and iced tea, right
here and now at Caribou, not neglecting to
be fully here and to be
This golden shovel poem is based on a quote in The Overstory, the book by Richard Powers, which I just finished reading this morning. “You have a right to be present. A right to attend. A right to be astonished.”