The week that was

Some weeks sit on my Keeping Shelf, shining, lustrous, poignant.  Some weeks fall into the gutter — dingy, tarnished, best discarded.  This week had moments worth saving and others best forgotten.

I’m not complaining, though.

I learned some lessons this week.  I spent several hours on the phone with someone whom I love and who has some strong and blunt lessons to teach me.  I resist those lessons at times; but in other moments, in the cool sweet mornings over coffee alone on my porch, I examine them with a mixture of reluctance and eagerness, touching their contours, watching out for sharp edges.  Those conversations triggered pain as they occurred and might, at first, seem part of the days that I cast in the sewer.  But on reflection, I tuck them into a clay vessel on the shelf, saving them, savoring them.  Gems for my wealth corner, to draw goodness to me.

Last evening, a half-dozen women came to my home for a Women’s Potluck supper, and the entire evening goes in the memory box with the bits of turqoise and crystal put aside for some special project.  Their chatter raised gladness from the murky depths of my soul.  The pleasure of their company brightened my being.

A few lumpy days along the way clearly belong in the discard pile,  and there they shall be cast. But shining beautiful and bright at the start of this week that was, stands a visit from my friend Paula and her grandson Brody, unmistakeably an hour for the Keeping Shelf.  Her radiant face still glows in my mind.  The love she has for her children, husband and grandchildren, the love she has for me, the pureness of the joy with which she greets life; these inspire me.  These remind me how blessed I truly am.

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