October 31, 2020

Small World

I can feel your fear. And mine.

I want to write you words. Words that will erase your heart pounding can’t sleep at night eat everything in sight (or nothing) yell at your friends – fear.

Are we in too deep for words? Words may not quite reach all the way down to that hard hot knot that keeps us from taking that one full breath we need to take. That one breath to un-blur our vision and steady our shaking hands. We must try.

THE world is very big.

YOUR world is very small. It is. I don’t care who you are, it’s a small small world. After all. The people you love. Those that love you back. The work of your hands and heart. Your soul and it’s condition. These are your responsibility. Family. Work. Soul.

Reality now is best viewed in one of two ways. Zoomed in. Your family. Work. Soul. Pretty clear. Easy to see.

Or zoomed waaaay out. God’s eye view. A view vast enough so that we know there is a larger pattern, more intricate and complex than our poor instrument can encompass. But the beauty is there, reinforcing our belief that there is purpose and intelligence. If we will just breathe. we will sense meaning.

Events in between our small world and the vast world are badly pixelated. It’s hard to know what we’re seeing, viewing it all through our fears and suffering and hopes and fury and ferocity. In the eye of the hurricane, it may be quiet but you can’t see anything beyond the hurricane.

Lately, it seems we’ve forgotten our own insignificance and have begun acting like the world really turns on the axis of our plans and expectations. Talking as if one big event is the final verdict. The penultimate outcome of the big human experiment.

The world is not ending. It’s just beginning again. And again.

We’re just human. We can’t expect to have it figured out, having been here such a short while and with such limited instruments. All the origin myths start with how we stumble. We stumble. Human.

Tend to your small world today. Appreciate the beauty in the larger one. You small stumbling Human, you.

PS: I wrote this for me and maybe for you too.

© Angela Blanchard

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