Morning thoughts

 Facebook isn't working for me this morning, or I would post this on my Page.  It came in via my church newsletter, and was written by the Rev. Clarke Wells, who must have been a poet at heart, as well as a UU minister.  It reminds me that August is a florid month, difficult for lots of people, not just those of us with mental health diagnoses.
 
I suppose I should write something institutional or
churchly, but my heart isn't in it. Where my heart is
these days is between me and whoever it is that lays the
sun across the trees with that sudden and terrible beauty,
I've been taught all my life to believe that growing up
meant to become less vulnerable, and that getting
overwhelmed by life is what happens when you are
young.

I am here to testify to the opposite. I was driving home
yesterday afternoon on a country road, and I simply had
to stop the car near a stone fence and go into the woods
for an hour. It had nothing to do with practical matters,
or theology. It had to do with trees against the blue and
shattering light and where I am living. I report it to you
on the chance that you are as odd as I...that it all gets
more intense, no less...so that if you ever go through the
same thing, like stopping your car for an hour, you will
not feel crazy being torn apart that way.