I ran away again, which is the story of this September so far. It is my compensation for a summer spent wallowing in city grime and clickety-quacks (pretend that’s a word, for it should be). I’m taking care of things that can no longer be postponed, which is not pleasant, but being outside of the city in the most holy time of year is extremely pleasant. Case in point: Before tackling my onerous to-do list, I woke early today to watch the sunrise. I biked through back roads, still in darkness, and then sat at the sea, listening as much as watching while the sun steeled herself for her big ascent and the waves crashed as if to cheer her on. Business as usual. When she finally came up, it was glorious, also business as usual.
Oh, what a business it all is.
Afterward I biked home beneath trees as golden as they were green, and amid such glamour I calibrated my plans with a much wider will and willingness. On this first day of this new year, I am full of fear, much more than I normally admit even to myself. But she fills me, this sun. Today, I am not myself so much as I am myself as her. My prayer: to live her business–our business–every day.
I ran away again, which is the story of this September so far. It is my compensation for a summer spent wallowing in city grime and clickety-quacks (pretend that’s a word, for it should be). I’m taking care of things that can no longer be postponed, which is not pleasant, but being outside of the city in the most holy time of year is extremely pleasant. Case in point: Before tackling my onerous to-do list, I woke early today to watch the sunrise. I biked through back roads, still in darkness, and then sat at the sea, listening as much as watching while the sun steeled herself for her big ascent and the waves crashed as if to cheer her on. Business as usual. When she finally came up, it was glorious, also business as usual.
Oh, what a business it all is.