Today these things are true:
Our dog Abbie’s soft fur is dancing in the sunlight streaming into our condo.
A gas fire is gently warming our living room, another reminder that early April isn’t quite springtime in Maine.
At LearningWorks thirteen students from Angola, Burundi, DRC, Somalia, Honduras, and Iraq summoned enough English this morning to share what they hope they’ll be doing in ten years.
Around her kitchen table, Nancy Beebe shared with me a piece of banana bread and her indomitable spirit.
I can almost play some Variations on a Theme from Tchaikovsky for another piano/organ duet at Clark United Methodist Church.
I’m making mandalas for the pastoral care team at Saint Luke’s to take to shut-ins.
We have tickets to see My Name is Asher Lev at Portland Stage this evening.
Peter is awaiting CT scan results to see how many spots his cancer has spread to.
Most of the time I know that this is also true: I have a choice about which of these things I want to give my attention to.
In the world of making mandalas, the downward-facing triangle signifies endings; the upward-facing one is a sign of beginnings and new endeavors. Those ascending Flowers of Life? They remind me that this day still abides in Life.