To those who read here, there are tragedies we can't speak of. Right now, I vacillate between weeping and being numb and sleeping. A hornet stung me yesterday and I thought, aha, a sharp pain on my hand. I can attend to this because I can't fix the bigger problem. I can never fix the bigger problem.
Sometimes our hearts are broken so wide open, they can't be enclosed again, closed again. Some loss can't be borne.
And yet, the dog needs his walk and the chickens need to be let out of their coop. Eggs collected. Cats fed.
Remember to eat. Go to work. Listen carefully to the mothers. Attend.
When you can, visit the mountains and breathe in the trees.
My sorrow is vast. And deep.