“Are We There Yet?”

Here on our little hill, our garden continues to provide. As our vegetables and fruits come into fruition, I am enjoying using them in old and new ways—salads, steamed corn on the cob (!), plum ice cream, applesauce, lots of basil pesto, my first-ever gazpacho, and zucchini chocolate chip bread.

Our garden also yields beauty and small puffs of color that lighten the spirit: white and purple petunias, orange nasturtiums, gold coin and red Gerber daisies. And one morning this week, I noticed a new yellow rose bud on our one rose bush.

I am thankful for our oasis. At the same time, I am often tired and concerned. I want to be “there”—a place of health and safety and clear air, a place of no fires, no lost homes, no broken hearts, no Covid.

But until we get “there,” I know I I have to deal creatively with the all the sad and scary things that this particular patch of history is throwing at us. I have to dig a little deeper for courage and hope. I have to keep adjusting my stance.

Recently, a friend reminded me of a poem-song by Ric Masten called “Let It Be A Dance” which offers another approach to dealing with all that life presents.

                     The morning star comes out at night,

                        Without the dark, there can be no light.

                        And if nothing’s wrong, then nothing’s right,

                        So let it be a dance.

                        …

                        Let the sun shine. Let it rain.

                        Share the laughter. Bear the pain.

                        …

                        Let it be a dance we do

                        May I have this dance with you?

                        Through the good times and the bad times too,

                     Let it be a dance we do.