There are Days

There are days that go so well they are like having all the fruit low on the tree for picking.  And then there are days when one is a witness to tragedy so profound that all the fruit is out of reach.  In the midst of that kind of pain, one thing becomes clear, people can feel both deep compassion and no feelings at all, moment by moment.

I reminded people often today to remember to take care of themselves.  I took the rest of the evening off myself, went to the house of a colleague in the village, ate soup and fry bread and watched Miami sadly unable to pull out the game against the Jets.  I was starting to get too tired to help after hours of crisis work and I listened to my body, jumped on the back of a four runner, headed for the soup and the football.  I feel much better for taking care of myself in that way.

I watched huge eagles outside the office window today.  They circled and circled.  I experienced my roughest plane ride yet on the way in this morning.  I was tossed about in that plane and finally landed with the pilot exclaiming, "There were turbulence up there."  He went on to say, "Not as bad as Friday though when a seat I had not secured hit me in the back of the head, I hit my head on the plane and I fought really hard to keep the plane in the air."  I'm so sorry I missed that flight. I love that Bonnie stomach medication. 

Tomorrow is another day and folks are trying to make sense of things.  We are surrounded by beauty and tradegy, hope and despair, lightness and darkness.  I learned about termination dusting.  Last night I stopped my car to stare at the beautiful mountains; the snow was really obvious on them.  I sat there transfixed by the beauty of that snow, known to the locals as termination dusting.  It signals that summer is over, snow is coming and studded tires are in order.

I send out my love to you and suggest that you turn to someone you love and tell them so.  I'm doing that to each of you right now.