Wednesday, November 9, 2016
November 9, 2016
Yesterday, almost from the moment I voted, I experienced a sensation of strength much the way voting always makes me feel. There was also a pretty sure happiness. This hideous campaign was OVER. Time to look forward.
What I was expecting, we do not have to look forward to after all.
The things this cannot take from me, though, are almost obsessively on my mind this rainy autumn morning.
Rainy autumn mornings, finally cooling down.
The tum of my sweet Pum, when I lean over her to hug her and wrap my arms around her middle. Gossamer's purr.
My health. This blessing, surrounded as I have been for ... years now, with people I love who do not have it, has come to mean a great deal. I am immensely grateful for my health. And the year or so I've been working out; how much *that* means to me, how good it makes me feel to do it.
My mom. My stepfather. My brother. My nieces. My friends - I have such ripplingly, gloriously, wonderfully fine and good friends. The mere knowledge these people love me. Nothing can take away what that means.
The city I live in. It isn't perfect, but its swamps, its architecture, its history, its beauty, its schools and universities, its people, so many such richly beautiful and interesting and good people. This home is mine, and I belong to the land I came from.
The little locket I wore to vote yesterday, that was my grandmother's and bears her tooth marks from when she was a little girl and tested it the old fashioned way, to see whether it was gold. The picture of my dad, inside. The family I miss, who are gone but are inextricably mine, my blood and my memory. The family I love, no matter how far away.
My talents. My writing.
Nothing can take from me these powerful, important blessings.
And, to my friends, nothing can take me from you. We have to have each other. I thought of so many people this morning, after a night of quaking in my guts, after a night spent fear-pooping through denial and horror. All the so-very-different people I love, who honor me back with their regard.
It would dishonor them for me to give in to despair. It would say the blessings I have are not enough.
I wore the bright, light clothes I laid out last night with different hopes in my heart. I wore the beautiful necklace Cute Shoes gave to me, and the stylish little shoes, and I brushed my hair and put myself together. Walked Penelope. Fed the babies.
My neighborhood is not less beautiful today than yesterday. What concrete things are mine are mine, at least today, and what ineffable things are mine remain in place: along with my gratitude.
You have to practice gratitude. It's like anything else - if you don't practice, you'll never get good at it. Ten thousand hours.
Today is my recital, and I have to nail it.
I am grateful.
I am afraid.