Wrapped and Tangled
I’m covering myself up with this beautiful plaid Pendleton-like blanket I inherited from this old couple who’d lived across the street from us in the 70s and 80s, named Bill and Margaret. They took a shine to me and my sister, making us ice cream sodas and showering love. It’s obvious I’m wrapping myself in that comfort, covering up with this woolen blanket, fringe falling off, a woven memory. The chill of early Spring brings on the physical need to cover up, but the emotional toil of what’s happening equally brings on a need. For many the blanket comes in prayer and spiritual communion; for some yoga, meditation, creativity. Of course, our comfort can come in all these things, and we’ve been given a unique opportunity to practice even more, in a way we would never have before. Tangled up in life’s busyness, in our self-importance, we’d not see the beauty of taking significant time with our selves. I think in some cases there are those who struggle with the quiet and with who they’re...