I’m working on building my gratitude muscles keeping them firm and steady. The first line of the poem “Two Weeks After a Silent Retreat” by Heather Lanier gives a gentle indictment of the times I lose my love, even if for a heartbeat.
How quickly I lose my love
of all things, I nearly flick an ant
off the cliff of an armchair . . .
“Think back to a time when you brought yourself back to the moment at hand and found the world vivid and lovable again. You might begin with Lanier’s first line, ‘How quickly I losemy love’ and see where that leads you.”
I have moments of full recognition when I know my actions have steered off a loving path. But the moments that haunt me are the ones I only realize after the fact, in retrospect—those times when words or behavior slighted another living sentient being. I can’t take it back or have a do-over. The damage is done.
How quickly I lose my love when I am stressed, worried, hurt, and angry. I can pinpoint those transgressions. I can attribute a mood, an emotion that triggered the loss of love of all things. The more insidious failures in love come from not holding and giving my full attention to the presence and needs of others.
I have a new question or mantra.
How will I stay present, maintain reverence, and keep love and kindness flowing?
happens in amoment
shards of glass—broken—trust, relationship
mending takes time and