Present Over Perfect

face life without the swirling blanket of chaos. Instead,
around every corner I’m finding that willingness to be
fragile actually makes me strong.
In the silence, I have found love. I have found love, and
peace, and stillness, and gratitude. I used to overwork in
order to feel important. What I’m learning now is that
feeling important to someone else isn’t valuable to me the
way I thought it was. Feeling connected is very valuable.
But feeling helpful to strangers doesn’t do it for me
anymore.
The rain is falling steadily now, the horizon obscured by
fog. The sound of the rain is musical, sweet, and the birds
are singing. The temperature has dropped quickly, and a
cool breeze is coming off the water, infused with misty rain.
I love that particular chill that you get when you’re on the
water, and I love the smell of the earth right as the rain
begins to fall—rich, like minerals and soil and growth itself.
If green had a smell, it would smell just exactly like that,
like the smell in the Midwestern spring and summer just as it
begins to rain. And there’s no blue anymore—only green
and gray as far as I can see. A few hours ago, blue
surrounded me on this beautiful peninsula, sky and sea in
almost every direction, but now the gray and the green are
complete and deep. The wind is strong and getting stronger.
It’s been a rainy summer, profoundly so, with many
storms right at bedtime, the boys standing on the porch with
us in their pajamas, watching the dark rolling clouds,
smelling the rain.