dining table. In the midst of my internal chaos, they brighten my
day. Maybe because they are red-pink-orange, and white. But maybe
more so because they were revived from half a day in the car without
water! With a plastic cup of water from the tap (I know, it
shouldn't have been), and a little help to stand upright, they're all
strong and tall again.
I guess, for whatever silly reason, it gives me hope. That's just a
flower. Am I not more complicated than a flower? Why it is such a
journey for me to feel revived? Maybe I'm just not soaking in the
'water'...
I picked up a sand dollar, too. On the sand dollars were written
'Faith', 'Love' and 'Hope.' Mine reads, "Hope."
Why can't I just accept love the way it's given to me? Where do I
start? I seem to have stipulations as to how I receive love. They
say, "Just receive it." "Be patient with yourself" - and with others...
Still, I never thought my life could feel so beautiful...
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