Skinned knees, broken dishes, burnt omelettes, laundry. Hurt feelings and unbridled joy; ecstasy and boredom. Anger, frustration and hope.
Extremes: Utter joy and utter moments of well, being human.
The things we do that make us both wonderful and terrible; things that help remind us that we are “wonderfully and fearfully made.”
Socks with holes. Doors that jam. Those closets that either crash its contents on you upon opening. Or the ones you’re too afraid to go into or come out of.
Baby belly laughs.
Finding money in your coat pocket and other unexpected treasures like a clean bill of health from the dreaded doctor appointment. Wonder. The final bite of your favorite meal. Bubbles. New car smell.
Dread and shame and other words that describe terrible feelings.
The way the sun streams through trees, glistens on tissue-thin flowers in the early morning before anyone is up. Peace. Books so good you have to keep one in your own personal library. Foot massages. Chirpy bird conversations. Weight loss.
Life in this world. Full of such visceral joy and such visceral pain, and holding them, mixed together like oil and water, in one body. Holding onto both of them at the same time.
Wonders never cease all we can hold onto and let go of in this place.