“It is a serious thing just to be alive on this fresh morning in this broken world.”
- Mary Oliver -
Sadness has been the air I’ve been breathing this last week. My step-mother-in-law’s sudden passing, a friend’s sudden heart attack with a long recovery, the incomprehensible killings of the eleven elderly members of The Tree of Life Synagogue.
When the weight of loss and grief, both personal and universal, becomes so heavy as to fog my vision and perspective, I turn to poetry, to nature, to quiet—in search of a moment that echoes Mary Oliver’s plea to wake up to the contradictory nature of living now in our fractured wo...
My words, my moods, my thoughts, ripple out to those around me. My actions, or non-actions, have an affect on myself, on others, on fragile ideas and dreams, my living space, the natural environment.
On a walk with my sister in the Jardín Botanico in San Miguel de Allende, I was struck by this fountain's message, how water from an unseen source bubbled up and into a round stone pool. Softly, with a gentle force that effortlessly rippled out—its soothing burbling and circular expansion was continual, mesmerizing.