Rose this nasty winter

  Went out in the rain to take photos, and was driven back by the downpour. The drops can wait.
  I was listening to Mary Oliver’s beautiful CD “Blackwater Pond,” and her poem, “When Death Comes.” When I saw the title, I thought it might be too glum for a rainy day, but then I listened to it, and of course I should have known better. She writes that when her times comes, she wants to be remembered as a bride of amazement.
  Her poem made me think of the notion that hope or fear, like time or death, is really just an idea. We all live in our own particular world of ideas. This week, two or three things happened that brought fear to the surface of my life, and a lot of emotion. I thought about how I want to be remembered when the time comes, and it is not for fear. It is for other ideas: encouragement, creativity, determination, purpose, art, fulfillment,  friendship and love. Those are my ideas, my choices.
  The world is a scary place sometimes, and it rolls up and down, a literal roller coaster. The point of balance or spirituality or peace of mind is to learn how to roll with it. This is a new idea, as I reconsider so many parts of my life. Fear is not the best idea that I have.