Amidst the sadness

Yesterday, through an early morning phone call, I received news of yet another death, marking the fourth since the end of summer. Yet, amidst the sadness, there is sunshine still. The past two days have been absolutely gorgeous. The sunlight streams through my living room windows in torrents, dispelling the uneasy feeling I’ve had for weeks now. Perhaps I have grown numb, but I’d like to think that I’ve come alive again after the vertiginous yet somnolent feelings arising from sorrows of months past.

I’m reading more again. Currently, I’m finishing off Ian McEwan’s On Chesil Beach. It’s a quiet story, composed mostly of inner dialogue, the sort of book that I’d love to write. Not much happens in the book, but it speaks to my own inner fear and acknowledgement of the imperfection of communication. Can a person truly bare himself or herself open to another? Where do the words come from? Where do they go once we send them out into the cosmos?

A good friend will be leaving to go on an adventure at the end of the week. I already miss her, although she has not yet left. I’m trying to focus on the excitement of what’s to come for her; however, there’s a heavy sigh that weighs me down in my heart.

Changes are happening all too quickly. I’m not ready. But, I know that – as the light pours in still and illuminates the walls – I’ll be all right.