It is just a drizzle –
The mist that one might find on any given day in London or in Dublin
Still, I put up the huge umbrella and shelter myself to the extent that I can.
I want to wrap myself up in warmth and in sunlight right now, but I am out in the gray mist of this March day.
My feet splash through the water and slide in the mud
A part of me wants to cry – to let the tears flow and to release all that lies within, yet, all that lies within is emptiness
I feel so much sadness and sorrow that I feel empty
Empty in a way that I didn’t realize existed.
A friend sits with me, her son sleepy and yet attempting to share his fruit. They delight in the mist and the way it feels against their skin as we walk to the car.
I appreciate it for what it is – the light mist that nurtures and caresses the world…
And yet it doesn’t offer the warmth or the pleasure that I need today. Today I want to believe in man kind. I want to believe that adults protect children and that adults take responsibility for their actions. I want to believe in compassion and love and empathy… and that there is more to life than the fear that shared my meeting and sat next to me on the couch. Oh, if the mist could wash away the pain and the sadness or flush the fear down the street to the gutters as it does the sand, leaves, and other remnants from the winter snows.
Mist is soft. It tickles. It delights. It sparkles in the hints of sunlight when and if they appear.
Fear is individual and must be fought alone.
And sadness, this emptiness inside; it is what it is. It, like the mist and the rain to come, must be walked through and appreciated for all that it is.