A Quiet Yes

In the hush of the early morning light I noticed that new snow had fallen during the night. And when I opened the blinds in the dining room to let in more light I saw that the roses I bought earlier this week are drooping and fading.  In the midst of it all I uttered

A Quiet Yes

despite a part of me that wanted to complain about the snow, and be sad that the roses are dying already.

As I gazed out the window I noticed that the cattails across the pond with their newly fallen snow created delicious patterns and that the snow on the tree branches was stunningly beautiful. I enjoyed thinking about going outside to scoop the light fluffy snow off of the driveway, thanking my body for being able to do this simple task.

And when I looked closely at the drooping roses I saw beauty in their graceful demise.

Recent news has been filled with so much one could worry or fuss about.  But worrying and fussing are futile. The best I can do these days, I think, is to say a quiet yes, every time I notice myself wanting things to be different than the way they are.

“To say yes to life is not only meaningful under all circumstances—because life itself is—but it is also possible under all circumstances.”
― Viktor E. Frankl, Yes to Life: In Spite of Everything

Yes, this is the way it is. And yes, sometimes it hurts to experience all of the pain and suffering in the world. Finally yes, it is a beautiful and wondrous world and I am grateful to be alive, even in these challenging times.

Looking at the little creek beside the path where I walked yesterday I thought about the old blessing…

May the road rise up to meet you

May the road rise up to meet you.

May the wind be always at your back.

May the sun shine warm upon your face;

the rains fall soft upon your fields

and until we meet again,

may God hold you in the palm of His hand.

    — traditional gaelic blessing

Wishing you grace and comfort in saying a quiet yes to life today and always.

May you walk in beauty.

A pine cone I found on my walk yesterday