Sitting in the shade on the back porch of the beloved parental units home base with a nice breeze attempting to finish prepping for my new WASH students next week.
Am distracted as usual by the undercurrents and rhythms of living and the unchangeable histories of interwoven lives as they complete their unraveling. Since I have a little eco-tree hugger in me, in spite of being a a red meat loving carnivore, I know I must harvest the threads of my life. The remnants aren’t to be thrown away. I must allow them to be sewn/woven into a new tapestry (or eco-wise into a new web of life). I need to be grateful that this is even possible. It is the only way in which I will be able to see and feel the beauty of an unexpected tapestry to be woven from the remnant threads I’ve been gifted with (dangling I know and trying not to worry about it–grammar that is–see dangled again). Oh well.