someday coming

"Pilgrim am I in a desert land
Wandering far and late,
In expectation every hour...


~Pant-y-Celyn, Pilgrim



The pervading sense of anticipation is a sign of hope. And if I am true to my perspective of seeing this life as a linear and provisional pilgrimage, then no two days or weeks are the same. Indeed, as we stand at the epicenter of the summer, I can already discern the changes even in the past month. Not that anything earth-shattering has happened, neither have I recently been on any noticeable mountaintops. Sometimes transition can occur far beneath the speed limit and under the proverbial radar.

When this recent heat wave broke, something distinct in the air- and the light- suddenly informs me the summer has (albeit slightly) begun to recede. It feels like it's about a month later than it really is on the calendar. Change is always that reliable and relentless constant. Often it is an exasperatingly slow process, sometimes the abrupt and the unexpected lets us see what our reflexes are like. Slowing with the elements of late has made for some release in my tendencies to linger, and reminded me of the way time itself has a forgiving power- even toward oneself.