It's too hot to think. It was in the 90s today and HUMID. I could deal with the heat but the humidity just sucks the life out of me. What's really awful is that it has stayed humid and warm and the girls and I are feeling pretty miserable. Saying that, it's amazing how relative things are in life. I lived in an un air conditioned apartment in NYC for 33 years. I can't help but pity my friends who still live in the city right now. The heat bakes into the concrete and brick during the day and radiates through the night... and thousands of air conditioners spew additional heat into the air. Mostly, with my ceiling fans, I was ok, but there were days when death seemed like it was knocking and that all that would remain of me would be a puddle of fat and tears. It got so hot in that apartment that candles melted in my cabinets.
So... I'm reminding myself of that as I complain about feeling just a little warm in my sweet house which really keeps quite cool on even the worst of days. In winter I have taught myself to live at 55 degrees. We are much more adaptable than we believe. I remember a friend years ago who had volunteered in Somalia during the drought. She returned to August in NYC and was walking around in a sweater feeling cold. She had grown accustomed to 120 in the shade. Life is pretty amazing. We humans are pretty amazing. We forget how amazing we are. We survive terrible weather, terrible tragedies, and come out smiling. Pretty awesome, if you ask me.
Here's tonight's poem. Wrote this when I was very young.
Cry against the dark night of shining tearsWhose source you do not knowJoy and sorrowBlending in rivers of no source, no endThe restless stillness of life's passingCry against the dark night of dreamless sleepAnd sleepless dreamsAll levels blending into something elseCan rainbow colors see themselves orknow their hues?Where is the light I seek (too bright to bear)The light whose music sings a soul to joyUnlocks some caged and cowering power withinThe light that is my soul and moreThe light toward which I am perpetually turning,Turning,And turning too awayMy blindness frightened at the prospect ofsuch visionCry against the dark pain of all this lonelinessOur frail forms groping forth and falling backAlmost, but not quite, touching on the hand of GodAlmost, but not quite, hearing the voice withinCry for the unanswered prayersThe ones we do not know we makeWhich the Universe, therefore, cannot answerCry for what we think we seekMistaking our own shadows for the face of GodCry for the dark night of shining tearsFor that imperfect strife which is mortalityCry for the vision that remains unseen and out of reachWithin us.- Katherine E. Rabenau
Some things I'm grateful for today:
- the microwave oven