bathed in light

Maybe it's the unrest in Egypt, a relentless winter, and the diabolic agendas of certain conservative politicians that make it seem as though the world is shaking beneath my feet. Or maybe the world really IS shaking beneath my feet. All I know is that life feels hard right now. Hard as in difficult, and hard as in not soft. There seems to be very little gentleness to be found anywhere.

Except there is. Here is where I found it in recent days.

Two Pampered Chef customers closed their shows yesterday. They didn't get the results they wanted, and I always feel in situations like that that I didn't do enough to coach them and help them. But they thanked me, enthusiastically, and appreciated what I did do to help. (They didn't know I have a  yardstick for measuring how I do my job--they just know what they experience with me). I didn't expect the appreciation, and it felt lovely.

A friend included me in a prayer petition. That may sound mundane, but I assure you that this was not. I have felt so isolated and bereft of friends of late, that this was like manna from heaven.

A blogging friend shared a favorite book with me, and included a packet of coffee in the mailing that contained the book.

I found the courage to speak up and address something that was problematic, and the person with whom I was speaking didn't hang up on me, get mad at me or push back very hard. I felt a little leaf of inner growth shoot forth as a result.

In spite of suffering dreadfully from the goldfish syndrome much too frequently (short attention span and very little memory retention), I have had extended moments of focus and clarity, grasped complex issues and experienced insight. Being fifty-something is not the end of the world.

Ken brought me flowers.

It really is the small gestures that make our hearts bloom. Just like the lilies of the field.

watercolor lily painting by Jane Halliwell Green