Living in the Delta, one forgets that negative people roam the earth and inject uglness into the lives of anyone who crosses their paths.  The same delightful escape happens here in Jenny Rosen’s lovely tree house apartment.  She surrounds herself with positive energy, from the inspirational artwork to the lush jade in blue clay pots.   My soul calms, hiding here.

Yesterday reality bit, drawing me into its seedier side. I  rummaged through the flotsam and jetsam of my life, the last few boxes hastily packed by my friends while I dealt with a mess caused by the remissions of others.  The flood of anxiety over the clumsy closing of my house sale; the desperation with which  I had to seek legal intervention to offset the failures of those who should have been helping me; the chaos during what could have been an exciting time — these rose to claim the quietude which the last four months has allowed me.

But offsetting my clumsy fall onto the floor of the storage unit and the stark reminder of that last month in Kansas City when I trusted some untrustworthy souls, a few shimmering pockets of strengthening silver emerge.  I found the missing papers for which  I had long sought, tucked into my mother’s book on needlework.  I visited with a client, hearing of how well she is doing post-litigation.  I spent a couple of hours curled on Jenny’s couch, reading.  At eleven, Jenny came sashaying home, with groceries, Winstead’s tater-tots, and her sunny smile.  I remembered how blessed  I am.  It is impossible to be here in this island of serenity and not keenly feel the bounty of compassion.

So this morning, I invite peace back into my heart.  I gather it like the fine lace of a lovely shawl and wrap my body in its tender embrace.  I forswear complaint anew.  I let those nagging recollections fall away, pinching the dead leaves from the new shoots and taking nourishment in the rich soil around me.  I feel myself unfolding, ready to bloom.   Forgiveness and release cannot be far behind.

It’s the twelfth day of the fifty-third month of My Year Without Complaining.  Life continues.