A Reverse Pratfall

“Don’t confuse symmetry with balance.” ~ Tom Robbins

“Life rises out of death, death rises out of life, in being opposite they yearn to each other, they give birth to each other and are forever reborn. And with them all is reborn, the flower of the apple tree, the light of the stars.” ~ Ursula K. Le Guin

“The dogged determination and patience of one person to do what is Right and Necessary may not always win the day or even be noticed, but it will tip the balance just a little in the direction of good.” ~ Terry Pratchett

“We strive for beauty and balance, the sensual over the sentimental.” ~ Janet Fitch

A short ways after sunset the commotion began. The first sound was clearly some mammal in distress; an almost muffled scream. Then a coyote erupted in song, that kind they do that sounds like gratitude and victory. But that coyote wasn’t the only one. They were right outside of the fence, so I could not see them. Their song was magnificent. Their exuberance was thrilling. I found it easy to lay back into the sound and let it sooth me some. Yeh, something, someone, whatever, had just died a gruesome death, but I could do nothing about that, besides maybe offering a little “good journey” to the departing soul. A few more coyotes, just up the hill to the mesa’s edge, let loose and joined the exuberance. The whole happening was breathtaking. Good fortune was mine. A grand expression of Nature’s wild spirit had let me witness, even to partake in, the magic of Springtime twilight beauty. Yeh, lucky me. Now – this morning is quiet. Gratitude is part of that silence. I suppose it would be kind of uppity for me to say there is also an aura of grace, right here and now. Whatever. I just had to say it – that’s all. Maybe I should just leave it at that? Yeh, maybe. I suppose I could whine about how much my upper ribcage hurt when I first moved to sit up in bed. I now always allow myself to just be one with the pain and the comic relief. Of course it wasn’t just the ribcage that tormented me, it was also that twisty spot in my spine. Poor me, right? I find the ordeal of me getting out of bed in the morning to be eminently comical. It almost has a Chevy Chase feel to it: a reverse pratfall, where instead of falling down you fall up, into a beautiful material world, after floating around in the Dreamtime all night long. Sigh. It’s a workday. Tomorrow is Easter. I hope to laugh a lot today.

Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.

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