fishboatiStock_000009339689LargeAll day long I’ve been trying to hold all these worlds.

I keep reading about the earthquake in Haiti. I think about all those people who have lost loved ones, homes, anything, everything.

And then there is my life. The everyday list of things-to-do. The picking my son up at school. The eating of cinnamon bread, which I love. The excitement of planning for the upcoming Edwardian Ball.

I watch the guilt. I watch the joy. I watch the guilt. I donate to UNICEF. I wonder if I am donating because I really want to help or because I feel guilty or because I long to be a good person. I nearly don’t donate because I think it may be coming from the wrong place. But then I think, “Oh well, better that I send the money and have it come from the wrong place than not at all.”

It’s all there. It’s all true. Parts of me who want to help. Parts of me who feel guilty for experiencing joy when others are suffering. Parts of me who feel such gratitude for my life that joy is a natural expression. Parts who want to “be and do the right thing.” Parts that just authentically move toward one thing or another.

In this case, the movement is toward wanting to connect. Just to gather, like this, even virtually, to say, “Life is full of suffering. Life is full of joy. Life offers us so much to hold. How are you doing with it all?”

Sending love.

(P.S. Some part of me wants to edit this. Make it better. Make it right. But I’m practicing non-presentation and non-perfection. So hitting the “publish” button NOW.)