When Clouds Gather

The problem with choosing optimism is that very often, you are presented with a great deal of evidence that says you are wrong to do so.  The sun hides behind the clouds.  The dam breaks and there are floods.  The car doesn’t start.

Then what?

Part of what this space is supposed to be about is the then what. I can’t pretend that I know, but I can assert that I am trying my best to figure it out.  If there’s no sunshine, I must light my own way.

Today is a very cloudy day.  In the midst of wedding planning, with all its really frustrating joyful details, we hit a hitch. No, actually, we got taken out by a rubber band. A fancy one, an elastic, if you will. In our cat Wally’s small intestine, right after he had cheerfully and criminally dug it out of my bedside drawer and eaten it. Eaten them, actually. Somewhere between two or three of them.  Wally is not doing his part to help our local economy; in fact, he has put two people at least out of work on our wedding, at least. The vet bill is quite sizable, as surgery was indicated, and so we have had to make some hard decisions about what we will be able to keep in our wedding, and what we won’t.

In a couple of hours, I will get to pick Wally up from the vet. As sad as I am about the wedding things that have had to go, I am pretty sure that his motorboat purr will be enough for a smile. That’s good enough sunshine for today.

By Way of Introduction

Hello.


It seems like any conversation, which I hope this space will be, should start with at least a salutation.  Next, perhaps, an explanation. Who am I, and what do I aim to talk about?


I am a dreamer, a seeker, and a follower of light.  Yet my work, my life, often leads me into dark places.  I work in a county emergency room, while I go to school to study medicine, and I get a regular dose of the tragedy that can be the human condition.  My soon-to-be-husband is a policeman, now a detective, and his work too is often sad and depressing.  If we wanted to, we could easily wallow in all of that. Our dinner conversations can be quite morbid.


But we don't.  We are believers, despite all evidence to the contrary, that life, and people, are essentially good.  Although our work requires that we are true and accurate reporters of what we see, and while we certainly are, we personally have made it our directive to see it all, not to miss the good that is often overshadowed, and overlooked.


It's there. That's what I want to to say the most. Yes, people do terrible things: they drive cars under the influence, and they crash. They hurt the people the love.  But intermixed in all that tragedy, there are shining moments.  I have seen complete strangers offer each other selfless love.  I have seen ordinary people rise to the occasion with such grace that it is breathtaking. 


I'd like a place to talk about that. I'd like to report on those moments. For all the darkness, there are pockets of grace to be found, and I'll bring them here. Will you join me?

Coming soon

musings on the points of light that can be found even in the darkest of places.