When I returned home on Tuesday evening I was greeted by the first blooms of my little acre, lovely little Pulmonaria, commonly called lungwort 'round these parts. The plant whispered to me, "Breathe easy." I took a deep breath and released it before commencing my questioning, as I often do, seeking clarity for the often-cryptic green messages that I receive from my botanical allies. I can breathe easy now? No. I'll be able breathe easy soon? No. What then? And my little rooted friends smiled as plants do and simply repeated the whisper.
This week has been peppered with the kinds of activities that tend to skirt me. Countless little frustrations that included dealing with an aspect of my mom's so-called "health care" insurance. Physical pain that comes with a well-twisted knee. Sadness born with news of the sudden death of one of The Boy's cousins. I'm still not Home. Not fully, and I'm certain this is a factor in the vulnerability that I'm experiencing. Even so, I feel this week has offered me reminder-after-reminder to offer meaningful care wherever it is needed, to count my blessings, each and every one, no matter how small or insignificant they may seem, and to ... breathe easy.
And so I am. Peace.