Small Victories

Been awhile since I posted. Thank you to those that have noticed, and a special thank you to those that have checked in on me, to make sure everything is okay. I am okay.

I just finished reading Anne Lamott's newest book, Small Victories: Spotting Improbable Moments of Grace. I am a big Anne Lamott lover for many reasons. I love that she's a hot mess most of the time, yet writes about the biggies: grace, forgiveness, love. I dare say, I've learned more from her in her screwed-up way, than from many that pretend to have it all figured out.

Anne is 60 now, and says she knows less than ever. That resonated with me. I, too, know less than ever about almost everything.

Last night I dreamed I had a swollen left palm. I pierced it somehow, and out came fluid. In the fluid were two tiny fish - larger than microscopic, but not by much. The fish left my palm, left the small amount of fluid in which they'd lived, and left for the great beyond.

My dream then switched to me sitting at a computer, and two large cats were surrounding me, one was actually wedging herself between my chair and my back, pushing me into the computer and making it almost impossible to type. I knew that the tiny little fish that had left my palm, had turned into big, strong, determined cats.

Life is like that, isn't it? Parts of us that start off small, almost microscopic, leave us and go on to turn into other things, sometimes almost unrecognizably so. It is not up to us what happens with the stories, the events, the people, the "fish" that were part of us at one time. We have to pierce open ourselves and let them go, let them become what they will. Or won't.

That is one of the few things I still know.