There are days when the food tastes just so good. As does wine or water, whatever I'm having. Just a swell day. Today is one of those. Sarah is away at a two-week sleepaway camp, working as a counselor, and Leila is home from her work Upstate. She'll be gone in two days and Sarah will be back on the 5th. We dance around this summer and I feel so blessed. So rich. So utterly, utterly happy. Yesterday the epiphany came. I was going downstairs, headed to the mailbox, and I knew right then, right then that my life was headed in the right direction. Why? I had stood up and faced - once again - an enormous fear: And the enemy was...me. I don't mean that I am a bad girl. Nope. What I mean is I realized yesterday that I had lived a long time with fear, with the debilitating idea that I was not worthy of any or much of any grace or mercy. I was ready - all the time - for the gauntlet - for the beheading.
Yesterday I realized I was innocent and moreso had won the victory because I went through a tremendous stressor and had come out - still without knowing the verdict - intact, no, not only that - knowing I had broken through the iron gate of fear. And what I had received, was indeed mercy. Granted strength when the opposite way would have meant ruin.
I am reborn.
Today I feel so happy, so joyous, so celebratory! I pulled garbage cans out for our next door neightbor last week who gets a cut on his rent for doing so, and he arrrived back last Thursday with two bottles of wine, red and white, to thank us for helping him.
Yippee, just what I was craving.
So I've finally uncorked the white as I type this to you and continue to key in the second draft of my novel. Leila is here, getting ready to go to the gym, and well, I feel so grateful that I am here, with my daughter, and one in a job that she is brilliant at and I feel such goodwill to all. Such gratefulness.
And as Carver says, "The rest is gravy, and don't you forget it."
2 comments:
Sheela--
Finally found my way back here-- it was that 'd' in the middle that eluded me.
Your words remind me of the fountain outside the Brooklyn Museum. Synchronized, dancing fonts that shoot upward and each falling with a hard, delightful splash against the stone. When you step back you see that fist of water at its zenith open like a hand above the rooftops.
Such pleasure, such benevolence.
Glad you're feeling it all.
Speaking of Brooklyn Museum-- you must have seen the Judy Chicago tables. I half hope not, so that Momo and I can take you there!
Oh I so want to go! Let's take Leila and Sarah when they come back! Deal!? Sounds marvelous! Thank you for your fluid words. If I could describe as you, man oh man, half the battle won. Love ya!
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