Sunday, November 27, 2016

Ozzie who?

A quiet Sunday morning. Will be meeting friends for brunch in a few hours. I put on some coffee, grabbed the apple turnover I purchased on impulse yesterday at the bakery cafe across the street, and flipped a Wes Mongomery CD from my binder of random jacketless CD's into the player a neighbor gave me when she moved.

And...perfect. Sunlight is breaking through the overcast, there's just the slightest nip of fall in the air, and I've got the day off to relax. I'm happy.

This is what we give thanks for. These moments of grace. It is never the life you expected, certainly not the life you planned, but it is the life you have and, all in all, it isn't bad.

I've been lucky enough to travel a little, and there are certainly those moments of awe and those moments of connection with the rest of humanity. I've spent much of my working life in live theater and have had the experience of being part of creating those moments when the emotions and the lighting and everything comes together and time stands still at the cusp of that final chord. But I am especially thankful that I have family and friends, and as wonderful as the times of lively debate are those moments of quiet comfort when everything that really needed to be said is already said.

Rich or poor, sickly or robust, farmer or philosopher-king, eventually we are all Ozymandias, the legacy of our life but a pair of broken and confounding feet. So treasure those moments of grace. And it is not a bad thing, either, to live your life in a way that allows them to happen to others. Share kindness, and friendship, and love. Share music and art. Know that in the simplest act of boarding a bus or serving a cup of coffee you may be part of some other person's perfect moment. Take pleasure in the pleasure of others because, that, too, is a moment of grace.

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