JULY 10
I am slowly, painfully discovering that my refuge is not
found in my mother, my grandmother, or even the birds of
Bear River. My refuge exists in my capacity to love. If I can
learn to love death then I can begin to find refuge in change.
—TERRY TEMPEST WILLIAMSAt first it seems a preposterous suggestion—“learn to love
death”? Death, which most of the time, to most of us, seems
The Enemy?
Perhaps what we are being asked to do—sensitized as we
are by our grief—is to love The Truth, to love all that is. So,
from full hearts, perhaps we can include in the sweep of our
love even that which has caused us great pain.
If we can, then we can stop being imprisoned behind walls
of denial and anger; we can stop banging our heads and our
hands against what cannot be changed. We can accept what
has happened, and relish the life that we have.
I will try to open my hands—and my heart—to life as it is now.