Friday, May 28, 2010

rising again

By 9 a.m., the house looked clean – bathroom, kitchen floor, general clutter. By 9:30, a fine layer of dog hair had resettled on every surface. Leaves and wet grass tracked through the entryway. Crumbs littered the floor. And the toys were seeping out from every hidden place.

After lunch, all the dishes dripped dry next to the sink. By evening, a new pile awaited sudsy water.

I just folded laundry, but already the hamper overflowed. I concocted an elaborate dinner last night but have no idea what to cook today. I swear I just paid the bills but new due dates stare me down.

The night undoes every day's work.

Yet all of us wake up and face the day again. And again. No matter what our respective jobs throw at us.

Why do we bother? Why don't we give in to the despair induced by the inevitable repetition and monotony of daily living?

Because we believe.

We believe that between the cracks of duty and responsibility, there's something sparkly and valuable and worth trying to find.
We believe that just around that corner exists something beautiful. And we believe that we will find it.

I think we call this thing hope. Hope in possibility. Hope in dreams. Hope in the fresh, crisp air that rode in on last night's thunderstorms. Hope in the knowledge that though every night brings the death of this day, the sun will rise on tomorrow and gift us another chance.

Sure, for me, it's another chance to wade through dishes and discipline and dinner [and more dishes]. But it's also another chance to dance with the kids. To laugh at my mistakes and their hilarious antics. To discover new ways to buoy my soul against whatever winds threaten to carry me away.

And it's another chance to love and get better at the art of loving. Because at the end of this life, on that day that doesn't dawn here for me but in whatever place awaits me on the other side, I want to know that I took care of what was mine to care for, loved what was mine to love, and found beauty wherever it hid. That even though every night undid my daily work, I rose again each day and lived.