I may not know the difference between a rosebush and raspberries, admittedly. But there are some things I do know.
I know rain at an outdoor celebration staved off by kindness.
I know the universal joy of sharing a meal with the blurred line of friends and family.
I may not know why Pi can do what it does, or why ferns speak fractals and they, in turn, speak chaos.
But I know the blissful tears of the father and the harmonious tears of the mother. I know that the tenuous strands of young love spin and weave, creating the strength of an unbreakable union.
With the multitude of horrible things in this world—things I do not want to know—I am indebted to the goddess of perspective for allowing me to also see the first hummingbird of the season, and to hear the “wild rumpus” of worshipped children.
And if there is a secular word for “blessed” then please, someone tell me. Because I am.
I know pain, but also gracious healing. I know fear, but also comfort. I know the darker side of turmoil and the gentle light of peace. And right now, in this moment, I am alive with all I know.
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