Loving Working

"We clean to give space for Art." Micaela Miranda, Freedom Theatre, Palestine Work was a shining refuge when wind sank its tooth into my mind. Everything we love is going away, drifting - but you could sweep this stretch of floor, this patio or porch, gather white stones in a bucket, rake the patch for future planting, mop the counter with a rag. Lovely wet gray rag, squeeze it hard it does so much. Clear the yard of blowing bits of plastic. The glory in the doing. The breath of the doing. Sometimes the simplest move kept fear from fragmenting into no energy at all, or sorrow from multiplying, or sorrow from being the only person living in the house.