“Set wide the window. Let me drink the day.” ~ Edith Wharton, Artemis to Actaeon and Other Verses
My windows are both real and figurative. The picture above is the view from my bedroom window. This view changes hour by hour, and affords me much pleasure. In the early mornings the sky is grey, before becoming silver and gold, welcoming in the day.
I can tell if it has rained or not by looking at the leaves and smelling the air. Birds constantly visit the flowers in the trees, singing and feasting and spreading their special kind of joy.
Occasionally a cow walks past on its way to water. I know this, even if I am lying down and cannot see that far, because my ever-alert ‘cow detection system’ (see image below) goes into full surveillance mode.
At night I can watch the transit of the moon as she wanders across the sky trailing stars behind her. There is another kind of window that is precious to me right now too. It’s the first few hours after waking.
This is my little window of ‘feel-okay’ time before I take my lyme drugs and herbs, from which I descend back into pain, confusion and suffering. It’s the time where I write, meditate, and remind myself why I am doing this. (I am doing this to kill the bugs. I am doing this to be well. And it WILL be worth it!!!)
My morning ‘window’ is the time where I can actually be present with my husband. If I have a tiny bit of zest we may even go for some kind of outing. It’s the time where my life still resembles, if only a little, normality.
There’s one last window I have come to know. It’s the one my soul looks through, watching me as I live my life. That wise part of me which knows that all of this shall pass. The part of me that is filled with love and peace.
Our lives are fragile, transitory, wondrous and beautiful things – every hurt, every hope, every moment. I’m glad for mine, even though the journey has often not been easy. The view from my windows is still magnificent.
Sending much love to you, Nicole xx