
Eleven wine glasses. Stained with lipstick prints and puddles of dark red wine in the bottom, too tall for the dishwasher, sitting in a cluster next to the sink waiting for me to wash them. Remnants of last night’s book club meeting where we sat and talked about Sue Monk Kidd’s “The Invention of Wings,” our conversation straying to the challenging history of race in the United States and the recent rash of car burglaries and home invasions in our community. We agreed that we all sit in a place of privilege, but that we are not separate or immune, that awareness of and compassion for the lives of others is vital. We talked about our children and the ways in which their world is so different from the days of slavery in the South and how many strides we have made, not discounting the distance we have yet to go.
Meditation = healing. Sending clouds of love and white light. S
"None of my musings had any weight or substance and I washed them down the drain." Gorgeous, and haunting. This is an incredible post. I don't even know what to say.
I love your decision to shine some light on the story for your kids from a place of love instead of fear. It's amazing how being present can help us deal with many things.
"Thoughts flitted through my mind, dissolving as quickly as they formed like so many soap bubbles." – way to bring the mind back to the present!
Much light to you and your neighborhood, too!
-Thereza
Wow. I am bowled over by the intensity of your prose — how you've conveyed, seemingly effortlessly, such tension and so many conflicts. May you all be well in your community. May you all be safe and at peace.