That’s the word that’s been in my head and in my heart for the past few weeks. Jingling around like gold coins in a drawstring pouch.
I’ve felt rich in life. Rich in love. Rich in friends. Rich in my writing life. Rich in everything I need.
I have a weekly routine and friends and my writing and enough special days and events to keep everything interesting.
It’s a rich life.
I think about love and how that makes everything richer. How things seem more special when W’s there. The way I can’t wait for her to get home at night so I can tell her about my day and experience it all over again through her eyes.
Of course, my life isn’t perfect. The house is usually a mess and the cat puked under the dining room table and shouldn’t I be due for a pay increase and when will those damn kids get jobs.
But my life is rich. It’s cheesecake and a hot fudge sundae with extra whipped cream and a $20 bill that I found in an old pair of jeans.
And then last night happens, and I am sad and hurt and broken inside. If you read this blog, you are probably feeling the same way.
Still, I remind myself of the richness of my life. Of love and friends and the way they swirl around me like stardust.
This morning, W tells me everything will be okay and that she loves me.
A friend invites me to a drum circle. Other friends share kind words and blog posts they have found to be soothing and encouraging. A friend who runs a local LGBT group sends an e-mail about working together to protect the rights of those in our community. I will attend the steering committee meeting they are holding on Monday to find out what I can do to help.
W will be home soon. We will have dinner together and watch Luke Cage on Netflix. She’ll fall asleep first. I’ll write and read and then turn in for the night. If I can’t sleep, I’ll settle in close to W and the cats piled up at my feet.
Tomorrow, I’ll try to get out of the house and write in the little coffee shop in town. Maybe I’ll see some of my friends there. I’ll be kind to myself. I’ll be kind to others.
And when things seem hopeless or scary or pointless, I’ll take refuge in my rich life.
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What makes your life rich?