Posts Tagged ‘Oscar Wilde quote’

There are no easy answers, there’s only living through the questions. (Elizabeth George)

Sun streams through the window and I try to hold onto the brightness, as if blue sky carried answers to questions that don’t fit into logical formulas. Life. Death. Illness. The healed and unhealed. The why.

The husband of a friend died yesterday. Several other people have cancer. A friend of my husband was just diagnosed with non-alcoholic cirrhosis of the liver. Magic wands remain in fiction. Moreover, I look at the political scene and my stomach twists. How can so many people choose hate and see nothing wrong with it? I know a child who could have post-traumatic stress syndrome. I talk to a friend from the Y. “Will you pray for my husband?” Too many folk seem to be suffering right now.

A double rainbow appears on the wall behind my laptop, yet I can’t capture it with a photo. I don’t have adequate equipment. The picture appears dark and the rainbows show pale.  I erase the photo; the rainbows fade. I don’t have the ability to save the world by myself. Nor do I dare to reply to grief with platitudes.

Instead I offer an ear, arms, perhaps some of my time. And perspective appears. What matters? What doesn’t? If I give up my serenity over something small, a traffic delay, spilled juice, a photo that doesn’t work, changed plans that don’t fit my agenda, how much energy will I have when I really need it? Perhaps this is one small part of living through the questions.

Right now I’m aware of what I have and how fragile life can be. However, my attitude can change after a few ordinary, nothing-special days. I pray for awareness, to learn from unanswered questions.

love tainted world Optimism Revolution


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You can’t depend on your eyes when your imagination is out of focus. (Mark Twain)

I drive alone in silence and savor the freedom. Certainly traffic brings noise, but that sound is outside my jurisdiction and it isn’t emergency-vehicle or passing-train loud, at least at the moment. Sometimes I crave space simply to be, to make a detour if I want, shorten or elongate a trip on a whim—celebrate a day without obligations or deadlines, with only open blue skies and a sense of the continuing now. I love hours when words and I work together at the computer, sometimes leading to a story, occasionally discovering a truth. That takes a certain amount of love-for-the-hermit’s-life.

I haven’t traveled far when I recall an incident with my youngest granddaughter, as she dressed herself with an infant bib, at least three long necklaces, a length of cotton batting, and sunglasses. Since her speech is limited I’m not sure whether she played the part of a princess, actress, or model getting ready for a shoot. Then I recall treading water with my older grandchildren, the joy we share as the warm water caresses us, the games we play as the deep end of the pool supports us with a little kicking and a lot of laughter.

I am hit with the fact that this moment of freedom isn’t really where I want to live forever. I just need to breathe occasionally and observe the whole. Chances are I’m going to be exhausted after spending a full day tomorrow with grandchildren again. Perhaps living perpetually alone could become a tomb, not the utopia I desire. One, two, three, breathe… Real life is about to return in a matter of hours.

time alone PIQ

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