Hello Earth #21

Hello Earth

Here I am, sitting in the mid-afternoon sun on my tiny front landing. (I went back in the house for a minute to get the insect repellent to discourage one of those sticky little flies that come around this time of year. But it still likes investigating the edge of my iPad.) 

 Earth, I’m rugged up, and it’s not too cold out here at present. A bird of some kind rustles in the tree nearby, out of view. My wind chimes sound faintly, the breeze making the wooden ringer tap lightly on the metal tubes. It’s a mellow note. I’ve had this set of chimes for about 25 years. I remember exactly which student gave them to me in return for teaching her Reiki. Her husband made them. They’ve been blown down twice over the years, in high winds, but only the strings were broken. 

Leaning in, I think about all the remembering I’m doing of late. Is this an effect of isolation or of old age? I don’t mind it anyway, as the memories are dear. There are things it’s pleasant to relive — and if sometimes tears are involved, they are few and gentle, and only because of the sweetness of what I remember. 

Listing gratitudes, I think my whole life is cause for gratitude — or at any rate, that I got the major traumas over early. I have had more and more cause to be grateful as life has gone on. It’s taken me a long time to grow into myself; perhaps that’s the explanation ... and I doubt if I’ve finished yet. 

Offering my love to you, Earth, I also send love to Life for being so kind to me.