Mending

I could see the day fraying at some of its edges today.

Three times this afternoon I heard the kind of yelling in the neighborhood that rattles safety. I was not afraid for my safety, but I was surely afraid for someone's.

Twice I caught sight of a man hauling his belongings down the ally: dumbbells and plastic containers. His walk was heavy. His packing poorly planned, hurried, and spilling out.

Once today I took some time to stare at some of the things in my life that hurt.

And then . . .

I ran.
I had good coffee with a friend.
I washed dishes.
I watched The National.
I got good-chills about Obama.
I did my laundry.
I read a wordy text book.
I read John Milton.
I listened to Over the Rhine.
I reminded myself to breathe more deeply.
I gave some clothes away.
I boiled a free-range, organic egg and put it on my salad.
I drank peppermint tea with honey from this weekend's Vancouver winter market.
I said hello to my mom.