Begin again.

wp-1488153042325.jpgEach day is a do-over. We get second chances every moment we are above ground. Some starts are exciting like a new friend or challenge faced. Other “begin agains” take the breath from us and we stagger forward on unsteady feet. This week, I began working for the K-State Foundation as a marketing manager. It is a good “begin again.” I’ve felt freakishly calm as this new season opens its arms to me.

Full Disclosure: Moments of uncertainty do show up and exact their tolls on the road forward. My journal gets the bulk of the will-I-flounder wonderings:

“we have hated the wrong thing – us – our humanity and fearsome foibles…the foolishness of our daily lives…and yet I have come to appreciate living an imperfect and secretly beautiful life” (monday morning)

“it feels as if forever resides in each grief-borne breath.
still, the universe conspires to bring birdsong on a bitter winter’s day
love of old friends   fresh hope   a sun-saturated window
and a match to light the sorrow-filled box, ‘reserved for self’…
We are not born nor lost in those ashes; we are found.” (monday afternoon)

“thank you for today’s run with Katie
my homework is done
for lunch
a car, fresh raspberries, and nifty work attire” (thursday)

So much good happening and still sorrow, shock, and the full feels of reading headline news visit. Uncertainty has hung around like Pauley Shore at an 80s after party. It has added to my quieting. Words have woven into a tangle and quiet becomes the only reasonable response.

Until wonder slips in past the guardedness. Laughter follows. Joys to attend.

Sleeping in. Breakfast at the Chef. Friends everywhere we go. A sturdy box of kids’ books to read. Snores of a big dog jockeying for space on the loveseat while I drink my morning coffee. In these “everyday ordinaries” is an elegance – a winsomeness – if we will see it.

Time to begin again
Knowing the hearts we carry
the hopes, too.
Though we begin not knowing the outcome
nor the way home,
we shore up fresh hope
emboldening more strength than fear ever did.

As you walk through your days of new beginnings, know:
You are welcome here.
You are welcome here whether we agree or not.
We can be friends and disagree.
We can agree and not be friends.
Stay for a while or pop in for a moment.

All I ask:
Tell the truth.
Try not to dismantle the country.
Think about the long-term of who you wish to become
and what you want to leave behind.
Be wise.
Be kind.
Whether we cratered or won the day,
each breath is a reminder to begin again.
We can do life together.

We can begin again.

(It’s a rare day words do not come; I have had many successive days where words hid in some far-off cupboard with the keys lost to the Krakken. We have to keep trying to do the things we are made to do even in the fog: cook, shepherd, leap from airplanes (oh yeah!), and hold hands. These words seem skittish-poorly tied together with wire, gum, and ribbon. Though they seem to pull against one another, I knew I had to write them down – to begin again – and hope it makes some sense to the readers – you and me. Thank you for stopping in!)


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