I ask myself, why is nothing different.
I tell myself, we cannot expect anything to change if we ourselves do not learn to change.
No one is going to write the book for you, mend your heart, or water the plants.
We have to relearn ourselves, and what we learn is we are not who we once were. This is a hard lesson. But, so is origami, keeping maidenhair ferns alive, and Italian.
Everything I begin to understand in these months hinges on when the tide is going out, what kind of birds are going by, and whether or not I remember to eat lunch. The big lesson comes in making peace, and I know that, with how things fall apart. How we age, how we fall out of love, how we lose people.
I learn to trust myself more, to listen in the dark, and to lay out in the sun. It seems the things I am concerned about, are actually and truly, the signs of a good life. This is part of the learning he tells me, just finding a different way to look at the very same things.
It’s May now and I keep on saying, any day, any day now.