So often it feels elusive.
Difficult to define, more difficult to realize.
In my weak human-ness, I wish for ease.
I’ve always struggled with it. I can be honest: I’m a pendulum swinger.
Negligence? Check. Anxiety? Check.
Maybe I’m not alone.
It was a rough month.
The indecision. The inability to control or enjoy. The little things in the way. And just plain stuff in the way.
But little arrows.
Here and there, pointing the way.
A little peace. A little breathing room.
A little excitement.
Where one goes and her faults follow. Along with all the little (and big) quirks of humanity to whom she has given birth.
Moments of loveliness. Moments of feeling like a scrag of a tree on a weather-beaten rock.
But grace is a fact.