Making sense

I'm trying to wrap my head around the tragedies that have taken place lately. I'm not having great success. In times like these, I find that I have to console myself with the familiar. With the very thing that has warmed my heart during springtime, since... well, since I can remember.

Those dusty memories of when I was a kid, playing in our little apple orchard, and smelling the delicate apple blossom infused spring air, is just what my soul searches for. And although those memories are buried far beneath, I am lucky enough to have a little apple tree blooming right in my own yard that I can revert to. In order to breathe that sweet hint of perfume, you must put your whole face right into them, and suck in the subtle scent of the blossoms, or risk missing the medicine that can mend your broken heart.

The world can sometimes be a burden (can I hear an "amen"?). Loss, and a life ever changing can sometimes feel like it's just too damn much. But the constant and familiar can bring sweet solace, too. Life and death are a part of who we are, but so are the ebb and flow of emotions. Right now, those foggy memories of our little apple orchard seem to be the keel that evens my floating shell.

If you wish to donate to the ongoing crisis in Japan, click here.

Thanks for listening, it's been a tough day. Good-bye Aunty Jane.