It is another morning. Paris is a continent away but sorrow resides in the universe. How have we have come to this time when people knowingly open fire upon their fellow human beings? Surely they must know that they will be killed in return. What pushed them to give up their lives?
I ask these questions because I do not understand. I see that they are as much victims as as the ones they have killed. However their situations/lives may be, there will be no other chances after they are dead. But then, I am not in their shoes. Have not walked their mile. Have never want of the basics of life.
I’m asking these questions and seeing the words of Joni Mitchell:
I’ve looked at life from both sides now
From win and lose and still somehow
It’s life’s illusions I recall …
I’m listening to John Lennon’s In My Life sung by Johnny Cash’s quivering voice.
These songs and lyrics play in my head along with the questions that Paris stirs up. There is one thing I am sure of. Life is good. Life is sweet. Let me count the ways.
- waking up in the morning to the aroma of coffee perking
- the first sip of coffee/tea. What’s not to like about that
- breathing, laughing, crying, feeling the tears down my cheeks
- seeing my sunroom bathed in sunlight on a cool November day
- Sheba coming in to wake us up. Time for breakfast she says
- making breakfast, eating breakfast, doing dishes
- writing my words, writing my happiness, writing my pain
- and so on and on – the ordinary, the mundane, the fantastic, the sorrows
And so, life goes on – moment by moment in all its catastrophes. It is what we have. I am glad I am here – in my life.