As I look up, I see our wedding bouquet from last June, hanging from a pole across the roof. Tan poppy seed heads, eucalyptus transformed from blue-green to pale copper, crinkled roses. It’s beautiful in its own way.
But it isn’t alive. When I carried it down the aisle, it smelled gorgeous. The petals were as soft as a baby’s skin. It radiated life.
We want to hold on to things that are alive. They are so delicious. We want to keep them, we want to force them to last forever.
They won’t. In this life we need to keep letting go, over and over. We need to empty our hands, so we can receive the next alive thing.
This kitten, purring on my lap. This cup of hot tea. This warm hand of my husband, as he comes to find me.
You can see more of our photos here, and do like our page while you’re there if you’d like quotes about writing and life to appear in your stream. And read (& hear me reading) ‘This Morning’, a wonderful poem by my friend Esther Morgan, talking about the same thing.
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