The work day was hard and bitter, full of the little landmines I navigate every day. But when I rose through the mountain pass and reached the twisting lane of crushed gray rock and finally passed beneath the arch of trees lining the driveway and saw that spotted dog with the ridiculous ears and the diamond-shaped mark on his forehead leaping to greet me…when I thought of kissing my wife and hearing her soft Texas accent in my ear…when I thought of sitting in my chair and drinking in the sounds of my own home…the harsh things of the work day faded into the kind of remote memory that I will not retrieve if I have any say in the matter.
The world and its system is dirty and cruel, relentless in its probing and invasion and corruption and infection. But the world that was created by miraculous love and artistry is still here, and available to me if I squelch the vileness and choose to see the beauty and the good. It’s very tiring to do this day after day, and some days I am too weak or too distracted, and the bad stuff flows over me like the tidal waves that batter and bash surfers.
But the beauty is there. I try hold onto this. I look and I watch and I hold on. And I count. I count rabbits and blessings.
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