Time, Change and Death

It has been a journey.

This year has taken me to places I did not want to go. It has been like a traffic jam of loss, in a world that seems to be delicately balanced on the head of a pin. I have had many conversations with the three siblings: Time, Change and Death. Some nights they insist on talking all night and won’t let me sleep.

But I know the trick to quieting them down. When you use your patience muscles, the muscles grow stronger and can lift you above the fray. With a clear view, you can finally see what bigger plan awaits you. One that turns the talk of Time, Change, and even Death in your favor.

On a walk to see tulips, I found new friends, a link to my ancestry, and a job. All it took was a friendly conversation and a dog. I have set down my bullhorn and the suffering of so many and have given myself over to the gardens. Instead of researching the nefarious happenings within nursing homes, I seek out the Latin names of my new green friends. I am using my ability to build national protests to organize teams who coax art from the ground. Instead of abuse, I now close my eyes at night and see growth.

“Come see what else we can do,” the siblings called to me. “We too are beautiful. Watch us as we cycle through.”