I fell in love
with Saturn this week. The NASA photo of the day depicted a black, gray and
white image, the icy rings so solid-seeming. I imagined plucking one up, over
the top of the planet, hula-hooping it around my index finger, lassoing the
universe.
I fell in love
with the soft groans of my dog as my tight, spooning cuddles wrapped her silky
fur in the curve of my arms, my belly; dog and human connected in breath.
I fell in love
with the giggles of my sister’s students when my inadequate attempts to convey
the power of writing, poetry, experience of nature, and evocative imagery led
me to feign mocking of my work and passions. They liked the humor, these
eighteen year-old Facebookers, text messagers, and vehicle-dependent,
city-dwellers.
I fell in love,
too, with the story of my mother’s dog waking the family of a canine buddy in
the middle of the night. Toulouse tugged at the humans’ bedcovers, ran back
down to lie side by side with the family’s beloved dog, and – like Lassie –
attended the dying of Choco who passed away just moments after the son and
daughter sleepily made final goodbyes to their pet.
I fell in love
with the sunset this afternoon. Unexpectedly in the capitol city, we followed
the golden horizon, driving until the road ended and we stood saturated in
pulsing honeyed stripes, coral flecks in navy blue clouds, creamy yellow
afterglows and the most stunning cantaloupe-encircled setting sun, glinting into spikes
reaching far out onto the fields.
I fell in love,
again, with my cat’s humming purr. Tucked into her carrier in the vet’s small
office, my fingers stretched through the opening, reached and rubbed,
scratched, massaged, tugged firmly at the nape of her neck, each small movement
synchronized with her murmurs.
I fell in love
with Orion last night. His belt shone, almost piercingly, close enough to
embrace, my guide during long nights alone in the wilderness.
I fell in love once
more with my zeal to serve. In the local hospice office the other day, the
bereavement professional and I shared backgrounds, brainstormed ways to connect
our passions to support families, and conjured a plan for extending our ardent work
in the world.
I fell in love
again with the tenderness of love with sisters, intimates, friends and
strangers a few days ago. Generosity, advice, wise words, long moments of
shared secrets, and a deep experience of reciprocal, fluid compassion were the
hallmarks of these interactions.
* * *
I fell in love
with Life this week. Over and over: beauty
and pain; fear, worry, redemption, peace, trust. Ideas, relationships, planets,
animals, constellations converged. It was as much a renewal of love, a
recognition, an awareness, that I so powerfully felt. It was a moment, several
of them, coming full blast into the present – into this second of pure
communion with whatever I was engaging. Knowing all things shift and change,
and simply enjoying without reservation or limits that which was right
there: that which I could touch, hear,
smell, see just then…
And it felt like
oneness, unity, separatelessness.
All blog photographs taken by Jennifer J. Wilhoit unless otherwise noted.
