It’s early morning. After a mysterious night, with my sleep disturbed by what sounded like cannon fire or I don’t know what deep in the middle of the night. Five or six big booms. That followed coming home around 10ish finding a woman sitting on the ground leaning up against my driveway gate. Of course I didn’t see her until after I had hit the remote to open the gate. She slowly and grudgingly moved over just enough for me to inch the car through the narrowed opening—glaring at me the whole time. She didn’t actually get out of the way. Sometimes living in West Oakland is a bit too far from pastoral and peaceful for me.
Pastoral and peaceful. This from a woman from Brooklyn.
I wish I could find the rightest and perfect-est place to thrive.
Well, here I am safe and snug inside the gates in my tidy and lovely little home and I am grateful to be safe and snug and alive and present and not, thank you goddess, sitting on the ground leaning against someone’s gate. Now that’s gratitude.
I’m grateful for my active interesting and juicy life. I am blessed.
And so it is.