I’ve got a good rhythm.


It runs deep because I’ve been practicing for years.  I can count off, I can cue in the orchestra.  I can hum it in my sleep.  And rightfully, so.

It is a good, steady rhythm and works well against the stronger melody of melancholy.

I’ve got the rhythm of hope.


It carries with it the need to make things better.  To fight for what is perfect and right and true.  To make things meaningful and sparkly.  If there are unicorns involved–even better.


But some days, it takes a full 8 minutes to drive 4 blocks uphill.  Hmn.  Some days, it is possible to show up 15 minutes late to cello lesson.  Some days, not all the homework will be finished.  Some days, things fray.


Because this is life.

So, though things feel like they are fraying.  …Though things really are fraying, Remember, the good fiber is centered in the fabric.  And honestly, fraying, frills and tears are the style these days.

And maybe these fraying days really couldn’t get any better.


Because they are what they are:




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