I have been distracted. The combination of life's little details and the horrifying world situation has sabotaged my usual optimism. The thought of rowing on a warm summer morning as the fog lifts and little waves lap along the shore is mighty appealing. Being away from all the hubbub does wonders for the soul.
The beauty being served up by Nature this Spring is stunning. Bright yellow iris swim in a sea of green grasses as a gentle breeze blows by in Sonoma. Elsewhere roses are blooming in profusion, and pink rhododendron have never been bigger. All the rain quenched their thirst from years of drought, and there is a celebration going on. Between that and listening to Bach's "Magnificat," I am filled with gratitude for what is right with the world, and more determined than ever to right what is wrong.
I like the idea of "sea change," but the truth is, I resist change as much as possible. I like familiarity and habit and that goes for just about everything from clothes to friends to possessions to daily routines. I have noticed that real change, deep down sea change happens in small increments over time. Little shifts in focus, a slight change of course, and before you know it, you have entered new territory.
Sitting on a beach, seeing the sea change, waves breaking in different ways, creating patterns and coming and going and coming another way again; that is plenty of change for me.