The Rhythm of Life

I woke up today and saw the sun shining through the window onto the peaceful sleeping faces of my sisters. It was one of those moments when time just stands still. And I felt the piercings of joy. It was beautiful.

A week ago, Allison has an absolutely beautiful post on Lent and the metaphysics of catching light. And I've been thinking about it a lot. I can see and thank God for the light that falls into my lap, like this morning, but when light seems far off, I do not go actively seeking it. But I am going to try and do so.

...

A portrait of my evening.


We all lounge around the living room. I play a quiet melody on the piano. I love sitting there playing and watching life go on, like having a soundtrack for life. I could see Jazz doing homework, Jacqueline just sitting happily, Leo quietly reading aloud. Well, as quiet as he gets. It's after four, and I'm surprisingly not tired. Thankfully not tired.

Dad comes home, and the family is complete. I segue into another song, a jazzy Gershwin piece. Dad loves jazz pieces. My cousin comes over and visits while I play through Clementi sonatas and play Jason Mraz by ear. Mom asks if I'm too tired to do chores, and I'm not. I love sweeping... it's the only chore I like, heh, but still. I'm glad I'm awake and have the strength to help around the house.

I'm coming to love this spontaneous rhythm of life. It's different for me, very different, I used to plan out every minute of the day. But my illness leaves no room for any type of plans. And so I spend my days like this, listening to laughter, watching memories unfold before me, sharing joys with my family ... and catching light.