There are Plans… then there is Life
“Sit quietly where there is flowing water and light filtered through leaves.”
This post was going to be about how, leafing through a notebook last year, I came across those words. I don’t remember when or why I wrote them.
Then I was going to tell how, in the middle of Texas’ worst drought on record, I managed to find this place. I posted the words on the bulletin board above my desk (also called my “vision board,” after “The Secret.”)
It’s a short drive (or a longish and not very pleasant walk) from home, along the south shore of Austin’s Lady Bird Lake (aka Town Lake, aka the Colorado River—the Texas one, not the one that empties into the Gulf of California).
I normally have my granddaughter two afternoons after school and most Saturdays. Last Saturday we took her to the Shakespeare in the Park production of a Bollywood version of “Twelfth Night” and kept her overnight. Her mother (my daughter) hadn’t been well for a while and went to the ER Sunday afternoon. I dropped Chloe off at her other grandmother’s and went to stay with my daughter at the ER (where they gave her IVs, did tests that showed nothing, and released her, as I figured they would), took her home, then picked Chloe up and kept her overnight. I took her to school Monday and picked her up afterwards, then kept her Monday night and took her to school Tuesday.
Chloe is five, a delightful child—and exhausting. While she was at school I decided I really needed to visit my place of quiet contemplation. It’s surprisingly isolated for being so close to downtown, but it’s not scary—I often see dog walkers, runners, park employees or people fishing. There was even a young woman who took my picture—she was from Belgium, in town for a conference.
Afterwards I got a pedicure. While in the chair I got a call from my daughter needing to be picked up from the doctor’s, and I spent the rest of the day on Mamma-Gramma duty, grateful for the brief respite. My daughter still doesn’t have a diagnosis, so I’m re-learning the lesson about making plans (and God laughing). And maybe I need to put a picture of her, healthy and well, on the vision board.
Here are views of my walk.