Apparently every Monday is Washington’s day for doing your lawn and making as much noise as humanly possible. To say I have a headache from it seems unnecessary and yet I must point out that I do indeed have a headache from the hours of lawn work being done outside the house.
Sometimes I wake up feeling alright. Other days I wake up feeling whatever all this is. Doesn’t seem to have a clear name and maybe the purpose undefined for now. And I know there’s a plan, a guide (if just the one we feel in our souls), on how to walk out this life fully and lovingly.
I met an unhoused woman the other day cooking at a shelter with some borrowed equipment. We spoke at length, disagreed on politics and ultimately had a meal together. I don’t pretend to know or understand exactly how to heal all the things that stay broken in our society. And, something I know for sure is that each of us has a piece. And if we were to share it, to lay it down, maybe we could start to get somewhere.
Stay safe please, much love.
