art, c.s.ellington, csellington, living, trees

There is an Art of Living

I coughed so much, in the night, I wasn’t at all sure how I was gong to sleep. I have kids in my house, so I grabbed the first cough medicine I found, which happened to be for kids. That lasted for no time at all – well, really, I gave it about an hour before it occurred to me that something stronger may be in order. Good thing we had some grown up medicine, or I’m not sure how I would have made it through the night.

I’m still coughing, but there was an hour between like 4 and 5:00 that I was silent. It was wonderful. I love silence. I love silence of being. Thank you for being here. I sincerely appreciate everyone who has been stopping in and wandering through the posts. Anyway, I’m better than before. Not as bad as last night.

Yesterday, I concluded my post with the happiness of jumping up into bed. Not quite jumping, not quite dragging. Somewhere in the middle. I am not that terribly sick, I just have a cold. I have had two colds this year and this is just the worst one I can remember for quite some time.

So, my daughter, Sarah, in my imagination was to be sitting beside me all day, bringing me anything I wished for, bringing cheer to the bummer of experiencing a cold, bringing me orange juice and soup. And, she did some of that – but she is fourteen and really looked forward to getting out during the day. Getting out is good for people, even sick people. The best I felt all day was the time we were out. We just did something simple. We drove to Target to recycle a few glass bottles, then stopped at Kiwanis Park and found a walking path, a good size one, we circled many, many times. I would think we walked together for more than an hour. There was the tiniest bit of rain.

The trees at Kiwanis Park are tall. I like that feeling of size, that feeling of place and perspective. There is an art to living, an art to caring and being taken care of. Sometimes, if we just trust another and live our lives with them, they can bring us to a place we weren’t fully aware we needed to go. I love that in my life. I love that Sarah, when I was sick, knew what I needed. My friends are that way, too. Messages I received, this morning from friends, meant more to me than I can say. And, so I go on. Another day.

There is an art of living. There is an art of balance. Join me.




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