On a quiet wednesday morning, in the shadow of a storm.
I was having breakfast this morning, eating a bowl of cereal, when a radio commercial came on. Today being November 10th it was, of course, a full-blown Holiday ad—complete with Deck The Halls playing in the background. Hey why not? Halloween's over, right? But as silly as it may sound, for a second—maybe two—I was overcome by absolute joy. That intense, soul-filling glee you feel as a kid, watching the sun rise on Christmas Day. I couldn't help smiling to myself, feeling the weight of a thousand years lifting in that brief, unexpected moment. I'd forgotten I could feel this way.
What lies ahead is unknown and frightening. Whatever hope some may see, whatever change has been initiated...this is a fire borne of anger and darkness; there's no denying that. But I took a walk yesterday to catch my breath, a camera around my neck, looking for something beautiful to hold on to. And I realized that for now, our world still stands. The leaves have turned and my neighbourhood is as quiet and peaceful as it's always been. Our kids still throw their jackets on the floor when they come home from school, dinner gets served, bedtime stories are read. We kiss goodnight as we always have.
We need to remember these small realities we all share.
The universe won't care for any chaos we bring.