Enough

 

“You don’t have to believe in God. 

You just need to believe that you are not God.” 

Now that is a quote I can get my arms around. 

Although I do believe in God,

I definitely do not believe I am God. 

I do not believe I am God-like. 

In fact, I believe we are all equals,

 including those animals and plants outside my window.

That doesn’t mean we are the same. 

It just means we all have an equal right to life 

Rain and wind blew over Resurrection Lilies today, 

surprises more like amaryllis than lily 

leaning into grass on broad brittle stems 

like salmon bones breaking under teeth.

I know about those salmon bones 

because my father loved salmon loaf and salmon cakes, 

meals built from a can of pink and brown  

reaching “enough” with bread or flour and egg.

Joy

With joy I welcomed the rain last night, 11/2 inches of watering I won’t have to do to keep my flowers and vegetables growing. I may have broken a few purple cone flowers, but now they decorate my kitchen table, adding life to the piles of newspapers I must remember to place in the recycling bin tomorrow. 

My little life is full of beauty like that, from a dog’s smile to a squash plant’s flowers. To these colors and textures, I’ll add the songs of crickets and frogs outside my window.

What brings me joy? Right now, my joy seems limited to my garden, my dog walks, and my brief escapes with Joe. 

So let’s get specific… 

Watching: 

• bees feeding on my purple cone flowers, 
• a swallowtail butterfly laying eggs on a spice bush and pollinating a butterfly bush, 
• beans (lots of beans) climbing up a fence, 
• tomatoes turning red on the vine, 
• a volunteer squash or pumpkin plant (not sure which) thriving in a pepper bed, 
• cucumbers filling with water and ballooning into fruit, 
• zucchini edging into a yard, hummingbirds and orioles drinking from a feeder… Okay, there are many more joyful moments than I thought.

Butterflies arrived today, floating between feeding and nesting as I watch through a glass door and nearly smile when really what I want to do is cry.

 

Not Yet

 

When should I say “not yet” instead of “no?” 

When asked if I’m retired, of course, or if I met my goals, then “not yet” sounds like a typical and acceptable response. 

But how about when asked absurd and sometimes rude questions like do you have any children? 

• Have you remarried? 
• Are you in love? 

Yes, I think “not yet” works just fine here, even if I am post-menopausal, long-time divorced, and introverted. But I don’t think the answer needs to be personalized. 

I think we can answer “not yet” as a more hopeful response than “no” to question like these: Can we overcome racism? 

• Is it possible to solve the repercussions of climate change? 
• Can we live in peace? 
• Of course, we might need to answer “not yet” when those kids in the back seat ask, for the fiftieth time, if we’re there yet, too.