It’s a perfectly sunny morning. Nothing like a perfectly sunny morning after a week of rain. Damp, cold, miserable, car-drenching-you-while-you’re-walking-the-dog rain. Today is fat and happy with possibility. Thoughts of window boxes, and patio furniture and whether I can show my arms this season, or not.
And then I remember about Syria. And that bat shit crazy Assad person who is satan’s younger more handsome brother and I think, you can’t be happy today because there is this.
And I sit and wonder. I wonder if I shouldn’t allow the sun up in the sky to let me be grateful today that I am not living in Syria under a dictator who is so evil he can kill a perfect little baby. I wonder if I should cover my face and allow the Hitler-esque horror to fill me and render me useless today.
I choose instead to be in this present moment, in my present reality, and allow the sunlight in, while cradling those people in my heart. I will carry the man who lost his twins and wife, with me today as I walk in the sunlight. I will try and telecommunicate my oneness with him, let him know he is with me, as another human who can feel the tip of a pinkie of his pain, who honors the hell he is currently living in.
I will do that, and this. I will make room for both. Probably not without periodic guilt, but I will try to honor them by living today, inside the space of the sun.