
The solution to so many impossible things is music.
Just in these last few days,
I have wept hearing the chorus from a Broadway musical.
I have been comforted by a little kid singing Three Little Birds on the internet.
I have coped by shouting aaa, ka cha, ka cha at the top of my lungs in the car.
I have been transported by the resonance of a marimba.
Dear ones,
when we are lost,
when we are disappointed,
when we are angered,
when we are hopeful,
and when we are joyful,
let us listen.

I was tossing and turning last week, curtains drawn, when a text message alerted me to the full moon outside. It shone blindingly bright all through the night, fading only as it set behind the pinky clouds of dawn.
The next day my attention was directed to a guide giving an expert description of nearby historical site. When I turned away I saw the first miraculous plum blossoms of the springtime, quietly blooming off to the side.
Later on I lifted my head from scrolling just in time to see the most glorious mountain view as our train sped by.
Friends, our attention need not be on offer to the loudest bidder, or focused on the most obvious point.
We can choose what to notice.
We can redirect our focus.
We can be alert to the silent wonders
sitting in plain view.



What a total delight to find a word that uniquely expresses an exact and complex concept. Schadenfreude, for example. Or drizzle.
Tsundoku is one of my favorite words in Japanese. It describes a big pile of books that have not been read. It’s not hoarding, or collecting… it starts with the clear intention to read, and the pile of unread volumes is the natural outcome, not a goal unto itself.
More precisely, it’s “not yet read” books, because the intention persists. “Unread” is only a temporary state.
There is no failure.
There is no delay.
There is no waste.
There is only true intention,
and a pile of possibility.
Dear ones, whatever is undone in our lives,
perhaps we are preparing.
Perhaps the “un” is false.
Perhaps it is just
not yet.

On Monday a friend helped me see a higher self when I was cloudy.
On Tuesday a friend taught me something I did not know.
On Wednesday a friend asked after my loved ones.
On Thursday a friend shared tiki drinks and dumplings.
On Friday a friend offered grace under pressure.
Dear ones,
our friends offer so much,
often unbidden, and un-thanked.
Simple.
Magnificent.
May we endeavor to deserve them.

“You overestimate your achievements
and underestimate your blessings.”
– Severance TV show
I am not sure what this quote means within the context of a dystopian drama, but I do know how valuable it can be to count our blessings.
Some are mega, like the love of friends and family or the solace of the woods and mountains.
Some are micro, like a sunbeam through the window or a perfect line of poetry.
Dear ones, even in our darkest times,
our blessings are great indeed.
May we awaken to their presence.
May we revel in their power.