Still thinking out loud, in my coffee drinking station…
It’s gonna be all right. It’s something I’ve said to myself over and over again in the past several months, actually this whole past year. I feel an immediate sense of comfort received, and sometimes I answer myself with, “How do you know it’s gonna be all right?”
Well, I don’t know…for sure, but when I hear those words, I am comforted. My shoulders drop slowly to the place they are supposed to be, my heart feels ease. That, in itself, is enough. A mantra of comfort—what a parent says to a child, what we say to one another when we confront the hard times. When uncertainty sits in the room, even a few moments of peace helps.
I found this old tea towel in my overflowing drawer of old and new tea towels. It is soft and worn, very absorbent—just like a good tea towel should be. The embroidery is broken and wearing away, it has a few holes, frayed with such soft edges. I find it more beautiful now than I did when it was new. All it’s imperfections tell me something, remind me of dishes washed and dried, in company and alone, big dinners, little cleanup chores, folding, washing, drying, and folding again. Time passed, time used. It feels comfortable in my hands. I pat it, I touch the worn stitches, neaten up its folds, and tuck it back into the drawer until I need it again.
Yes, it’s gonna be all right.