It hasn’t felt right to write.
It’s been necessary to be silent.
I’ve been looking for you.
Spending my moments bowing down, looking up, turning in.
Searching for you amidst the chaos of suffering and the helpless feeling that torches my insides.
And, each time I try to find you, I’m left with two words:
Thank you, still air and water that flows on command from my faucets.
Thank you, dry floor and blanket, in case I get chilled.
Thank you, employer, for the food I put on my table each night.
And, thank you, car, for taking me where I want to go, just like that.
Thank you, ease of a life more comfortable than I could have imagined.
Thank you for the gift of healthy children who passed through me and continue to thrive.
Thank you, mother and father who love me through and through.
And, thank you, brother who has the gentlest of hearts.
Thank you for forgiving me for my mistakes and for my ill behavior and for my immature ways.
Thank you for the mental and physical strength to help those around me.
Thank you for the seed of empathy, which has blossomed and allowed for connection as deep as the willow tree.
I am sorry that I complain or that I worry.
There is nothing to worry about, for you have shown me where you are.
Here you are; here I am in the constant warmth of your support.
We all are, here, with you — even now, in your re-ordering of things.
Tell me, now that I’ve found you — How can I help you find a warm, safe, dry, protected place for all of us?
This is my prayer.
**The photo above is from the Daily Overview. This is the Botanical Garden in Mount Lofty, Australia. A real-life Monet.