small story of belief. i believe the act of creation itself is what sustains me and i have a very strong belief that it will continue to do so for the rest of my days. this, i think, may be one of my luckiest things. i often go walking at gray's lake and one day recently i did, and i had the sudden thought of how courageous we are all are, just to simply choose to live and die and be. i thought of each person i love, and i sent thoughts out to them, and to people i haven't talked to in years, people who i've somehow disconnected from. it felt both good and bad to do this. but having love-spots in your mind is lucky too; it isn't just a loss. isn't this stunning, visceral? one main thing i remember from the shakespeare performance we went and saw: the idea that mercy itself is found in the prayer that asks for mercy. what about pam rehm's line: " the hand becomes rock/ or milky seed." stunning, visceral. the word behold is one of my favorites, i can't help it. melissa: "A nest/ or a breathing of leaves. But I live/ anywhere else." and then, stunning, later "whether or not belief rebounds. The lily will." so far every year since finn was born we have gone blueberry picking. if i were a different sort of person i would put up a picture from each year of blueberry picking with finnegan. there have certainly been times of doubt and/or co-dependence in my life but right now isn't one of them. finn put on a play--he was the fins of a fish in one part of it. in another part he was a cow and he had to ask the spider if she wanted to eat some grass.
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