The Masterpiece

This recovery from bronchitis is slow. I woke up this morning and cried. Haven’t done that in such a long time. I am exhausted from coughing all night. But mainly, today is the tribute to Leonard Cohen in Montreal. I listen to this man daily. He informs my heart, reminds it that we are all just the same.

No one deserves ill treatment and yet we insist on giving it to ourselves. I have been pushing this body around for a long time now. I ask it to do things I would not do myself. (Yeah, craziness rocks!)

Rob has offered me his service while I am ill. This is priceless. All the years of failing to understand each other have fallen away. The crop is in the fields and we are harvesting it. All I can do is offer gratitude and put one foot in front of the other.

Being spiritual is not a walk in the park and faking it isn’t either! Shall I go a step further and say that if you think anyone online has answers, you don’t understand the question. The question is who you are at your root.

As I look around my house and see chaos and disorder, there is also a hidden layer of sublimity. Call it what you will. It is smiling through the clouds. Leonard would know how I feel right now. Broken, sloppy, perilously close to reality but not quite close enough yet.

My emotions are salty and bloody. My lungs full of crud. I listen to Leonard and understand that I don’t have to understand. I just have to experience letting go while holding on.

Vicki Woodyard

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