It is the small things that have helped me survive these months, just as they did more than a decade ago with the passing of my daughter, Sky.
The tiny bagworm floating from an iridescent thread in a parking lot, the exquisite composition of a blooming wisteria plant, the solitary song of a crane or the chance shape of a heart found in a desert cactus— these have held and centered me back into myself over and over again—just as playful goats did when I tried to make sense of the loss of my daughter all those years ago.
Juxtaposing these tiny wonders, the immense Covid-19 Pandemic coupled with traumatic national and international politics have continually shifted into confusing stop/start/stops. I often began to write only to leave my work unfinished so that I have many fragmented pieces to remind me of my own stop/start/stops of this year passing.
Are there gifts that come with these intense times? I wrestle with myself to even admit that I have habitually granted myself the time to slow down and experience the miniature when I’ve traveled, in an unfamiliar environment, in a designated destination. But what if I do this without journeying to a foreign place, without the prompting of a painful death or a global plague?
Not necessarily to ignore the big, but to find respite in the small.
I leave you with Strangers*, a short piece I wrote for The Sun magazine and a radio interview with Dr. Ted Wiard on The Golden Willow Radio Hour where we deliberate the importance of the little things.
And wishes for you to find your own small healings exactly where you are.
Skykisses forever,
V.
*Please scroll down to find my piece on their website.