The older I get, the more I think that there isn’t always any rhyme or reason to why things happen. The older I get, the more I believe that a lot, more than I probably want to admit, is really out of my control. There’s only so much I can do.
So I’ve been trying to make a conscious effort to do “little things,” to put some good will out into the world and hope it spreads. The other morning, I picked up a plastic spoon on my son’s playground. A few days ago, I stopped the car in the middle of the street so a jay-walking postal carrier could cross safely (even though the driver behind me grew impatient and honked).
On Monday, I was walking to a doctor’s appointment, and I saw this spray-painted “got love” message on the sidewalk.
What if it was that simple? What if we went through our days simply showing love in all its forms? Love to ourselves. Love to our family and friends. Love to our community. Love to our planet.
It’s something I can do. It’s something I can control.
I don’t know about you, but I usually have a difficult time answering when someone asks me, “How are you?”. It’s a complicated question without a simple answer, and the best way I knew how to figure it out was to write about it.
I’m proud to say that Breath and Shadow has included my personal essay, “I Am,” in their spring edition. You can read it by clicking here.
Can you see the elephant seals on the beach?
I wasn’t sure what to write about for this week’s blog. I was tempted to write about my son’s perseverance when he plays basketball, and the fact that he attempts every shot my husband makes. But I’m not.
Instead, I’m going to keep it short and true. I’m sad this week. My son is on spring break from school, and our family had plans to spend a few days in Cambria (one of my most favorite spots). Instead, we’re home. I cancelled our trip, because I haven’t been feeling well for most of this year. I cancelled our trip, because I’m not eating like I used to, and I don’t have the same energy like I used to. I cancelled our trip, because the pain has been worse in my legs, and I needed to be closer to home.
We’re still all on spring break. We’re still all having fun.
But it’s not Cambria.
A handprint pattern my son made when he was 5 years old
If you don’t already know, let me give you the facts. I’m a white woman, married to a black man. Our son is bi-racial.
Understandably, how I look at race is different now than it was when I was a kid. And along those lines, The MOON Magazine has published my personal essay “Being ‘White’ ” as part of their “White Issue.”
You can read my essay here.