Sunday morning flowers

Life is amazing. And then it’s awful. And then it’s amazing again. And in between the amazing and awful it’s ordinary and mundane and routine. Breathe in the amazing, hold on through the awful, and relax and exhale during the ordinary. That’s just living heartbreaking, soul-healing, amazing, awful, ordinary life. And it’s breathtakingly beautiful.
— L.R. Knost

Because this, my dear friends, is what makes up life. I am finding such beautiful and amazing guidance in these days that are a mix of every piece of life. It's had it's disruptions of late. But then I find flowers for $5 and a warm sun on a Sunday morning, and I find a little bit of perfect happiness in the simple delights of creation, seeing, and stepping back into the simplicity of just being. Just see how the flowers like her pictures taken. What is her best side? 

What are the ways we mark the days, the weeks, the months, the years? In this, I hope only to ever grow more into this beauty that surrounds. On the difficult days to be sure, but also in the waiting days, the still days, the moments of in between, and absolutely on the happy days. We each of us tend to live and look for the brightest and happiest days and seek to increase their measure, and for this, it is good, and right. But it is in those waiting days, those days where we must slow down whether by choice or necessity, or merely a simple life rhythm, that we can rest, and reacquaint our souls with those deep paths--that place where the heart seeks. And even still, in the difficult days, I remind myself that often the difficult days still bring us closer to where our heart longs to be, even if it hurts like crazy, even if there is loss that we cannot understand. Even in that, sometimes the difficult days remind me that it's okay to not understand--that I am not required to understand or make sense of everything. And some days when things are falling apart, you take some time to breath, and for me... find some flowers and herbs whenever possible.

So drink deeply of the day, even if all you drink of is simply the courage to move through it. There are bright days forever inward bound to you, to me, to us.

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