I've been quiet for a while, mostly because we were out of town and also because I've been recovering from the holidays and A's illness. He's doing better now, but of course we thought this weekend, "He's over it!" and last night at 3 a.m. I had to pull out the nebulizer and give him a treatment because his breathing was rapid and shallow.

I've also been quiet for a while, both here and in my journal, because every birthday (last week) and new year make me reflective.
Is this where I want to be?
Who I want to be?
How did we spend last year?
What do I need to work on this year?

And, of course, I got back to work yesterday and have three weeks worth of work to get done in three days! That's enough to make anyone a bit disoriented!

So, I'm pondering all this internal stuff while also realizing that I had a great semester at this S.L.A.C. but I'm in way over my head for this year planning wise, and I come across the poetry of Hafiz. (14th century poet from Persia). These made me sigh and laugh and realize, hey, maybe everything will be ok after all.

***********************************************************
Every child has known God,
Not the God of names,
Not the God of don’ts,
Not the God who ever does anything weird,
But the God who only knows four words
And keeps repeating them, saying:

“Come dance with me.”
Come
Dance.

************************************************************

Once I found a stray kitten
And I used to soak my fingers
In warm milk;
It came to think I was five mothers
On one hand.
…
Surely there is something wrong
With your ideas of God.
O, surely there is something wrong
With your ideas of God
If you think
Our Beloved would not be so tender

************************************************************
Love
So God will think,
“Ahhhhh,
I got kin in that body!
I should start inviting that soul over
For coffee and
Rolls.”

************************************************************
God
And I have become
Like two giant fat people
Living in a
Tiny boat.
We
Keep
Bumping into each other and
L
a
u
g
h
i
n
g
.


Not angels, not miracles per se, but little bits of grace that make me remember that I - we - are all God's beloved. Happy New Year!