they keep saying that as time passes, it gets harder. but for me, it had become easier, simpler, more tangible.
I sat in my backyard yesterday at two o’clock in the afternoon while the wind was still and the sky was baby blue.
I sunk my feet into the damp grass, satisfying to my callused feet.
a chai tea in hand; I slowly, with a green straw, stirred my drink with the ice that acted like it was one figure.
but then the wind came, unexpected, abrupt.
It stirred the scorched leaves from the early summer sun and had rested in the dirt.
the pink peppercorns and the pine needles fell from the trees.
on the outside, it looked like the wind disturbed the plants, the grass, and bright orange marigolds that sit in the corner of the garden.
but I stared longer at each aspect of my backyard, the wind melded everything together.
the trees swayed together and the tall strands of grass danced with it.
It was hard for me to cope with a life that seemed stagnant at the time,
still like the wind that was not present when I sipped my chai tea.
but I find joy in the little things like the birds chirping as I rise from my bed in the morning or the luck that I have after winning my fifth cribbage game.
of course, I still wear a backpack of burdens that I impose on myself but that’s what it means to be human.