Life is good but stuff still happens

What a perfectly luxurious, lovely and abundant weekend. We ladies of Easthill/Seaside Ridge, six of us plus one visiting mom, hung around Denman Street and English Bay for the weekend. We got a huge suite with an ocean view at the Coast Plaza (for just $99 thanks to a generous friend with connections), enjoyed supper at Delilah's (private room and drag queen performance of hits from The Sound of Music), drank sufficiently little to get up at 7am and walk the seawall (well, 2 of us did) and see the Scotia half-marathon racers come in over the finish line, shopped at Robson (I actually enjoyed it) and came home in time for Sunday supper with our families whom we love. Everything was easy and beautiful and fun and life is sweet at key lime pie. Mmmmm

All the while as I was enjoying this I was also carrying tiny pockets of worry about friends who struggle with troubles and misfortune and ill health. Most of them you wouldn't know to look, but it's there. And I think I tempt fate when I say to myself, "I'm so lucky that my family and I are well, and happy together, and we have enough money and when we want to do something it usually works and the worst we have to worry about is squeaky bicycle brakes and having to stay late at work sometimes."

Gratitude is corny and passive but that's the first place I go when I think about these things. I am happy to be so lucky, hopeful that others will find their way to happier times, and generally glad to be alive. Weekends like this one are the chocolate sprinkles on the banana split. And about those pockets, well, I do pray, asked-for or not, believed-in or not, I give it for anyone I can think of or remember who might need some boosting up. Beyond that I try to help when I can with kindness and generosity and reassurance. Where appropriate I donate money or take political action. When I'm filled with energy I send white light for protection and peace.

Just a minute ago my husband asked me to come outside and see the roses in the garden that just bloomed today. They are pink/yellow/orange so much that we can't remember them ever looking like that. We do remember that we planted the rosebush at a despairing time in our lives. It was given to us as a gift by friends who love us and wanted to give us reassurance about the future. I think that's part of what we must do - try to notice all of the things that drop in my path unasked-for, and have faith that they will be there also for my friends and family when I worry for them.

question: how did we get drag queens and roses and financial audits and cancer and asparagus and sunsets and arguments and poverty and generosity and reckless damage and disconnected love and chocolate sauce all in one world?

mompoet - sorting it all out on a continuing basis