the truth is that things aren’t falling apart. change doesn’t necessarily mean fragmentation. although sometimes the best changes will totally break someone so that they may be made new and whole from the shards of their former self. like a really fabulous stained glass window.
i told olivia good-bye last nite. as always, i’m so excited about my friends and the grand adventures they pursue… but it’s hard to watch them leave. and still be here. even though i know i’m here for a reason (even if that reason eludes me sometimes).
some possible reasons include thursday nites at the g-man and my kick-ass small group from ecclesia. and my other dear friends that still roam around h-town.
and there are few things that make me happier than reading/hearing about my friends being happy… clarification, happy AND in a good, healthy place.
also on the happy list are massively VIOLENT summer thunderstorms. and there’s one going on right now.
meanwhile, i would like some ambition. or something.
you gotta love these thunderstorms… they make me feel so peaceful…
I think your description of fragmentation as stained glass is really beautiful, and apt. Incidentally, folks, Sarah makes fantastic going-away presents that are both thoughtful and magical…
magic beans grow into beanstalks.
i miss thunderstorms. in fact, i think i still have a cd of dubbed rain showers. i used to listen to it at bed while sitting in bed with a good book. i should go find thoses. instead, i’m putting out fires at work today.
The whole cannot exist without the pieces, some small and some grandiose, but oh-so-much more interesting as their own discreet identities. Oh-so-beautiful, too, when they come back together again even more precisely than their prior self.