A Good Evening

I make myself go shopping for jeans, finally. I realize that, along with my old jeans, I’ve outgrown white lace, sheer chiffon shirts, five inch heals, and my old eagerness for weather that demands shorts. The skies open when I have finished, making this spring’s purchase of a raincoat with a hood the best thing ever.

It’s a good evening to wash the dishes, fold a little laundry, clean the bathroom sink, and then decide to ignore the cloudy shower glass and ever-present dust bunnies. It’s a good evening to skip the always-planned, sometimes-realized, rigorous after-dinner walk and stair-climbing, and have a bath instead, a good evening to watch a movie in my rainbow coloured polka-dot pajamas, open the door wide, and leave it open, to listen to the rain.

It’s a good evening to remember how desperately people want to feel alive and vital, connected and understood and part of something bigger than themselves, and that this is why they are sometimes drawn in by those promising enlightenment, love, depth of experience.

It’s a good evening to be thankful that despite the endless irritations and stresses inherent in most days, I still know how to laugh, and that laughing when you’re not supposed to, as was the case for me the other night, makes you laugh that much harder, and that this, though potentially disrespectful and perhaps even juvenile, is excellent medicine, and forgivable.

It’s a good evening to remember that we all let each other down sometimes, and that forgiveness, though sometimes necessarily slow and difficult, is available for anything, when the time is right.

It’s a good evening to remind myself that our bodies are more valuable than our retirement plans, that our souls are more valuable than our bodies, and that sometimes, for brief moments, we might even have our hands on all three, but that this is not a given.

It’s a good evening to be thankful for friends that invite me into their worlds, and are happy also to enter into mine.

It’s a good evening—an excellent evening—to be proud of my son, whose convocation we attended this morning, a good evening to remember how much hard work and persistence it takes to achieve our goals, and that we need start again, over and over, throughout life. It’s a good evening to remember that it is time spent in solitude that revives and fortifies us for the next hill in our path.

It’s a good evening to step outside and feel the breeze on my face, because a breeze on my face and the smell of rain always make me feel alive, real, connected to the universe.

 

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