Hummingbird in Melissa’s yard.  Taken by Melissa last week.

Today has been a pretty quiet day spent tackling a variety of tasks I can do sitting at my computer.  I had minor surgery yesterday – nothing alarming or terribly serious – and while I am feeling much better than I thought I would by now I know I still need to lay low today. 

So that is all I have been doing – phone calls, emails, making arrangements for an upcoming trip and working on a couple of small design projects.  Nothing momentous or altogether important or even noteworthy.  Today is just a simple day of recovery and quiet, fairly mundane productivity, that is all.

At one point I was doing some dishes, staring out the window.  The Weepies were playing on my stereo and the song my husband and I danced to at our wedding was playing, when out of nowhere a wave of emotion hit me and I started crying.  It was a brief moment of overwhelm in which I had nowhere to go and nothing to do except sit with it, brief as it was.  And for that moment, my entire vision was filled with the realization that so much of what I worry about and get frustrated over simply does not matter.  Most of the things we all get ourselves into a tizzy over – and I can be the Queen of Tizzies, let me tell you – don’t f***ing matter.

Call it a strange combination of relief over the fact that this medical procedure is over with, a sadness over the fact that friends I love dearly just lost a friend they loved dearly, being in a quiet, restful and contemplative state, and existing today in a very aware space – aware of my how fragile my health can sometimes be, how necessary it is to STOP more often than I am used to and aware of how profoundly fortunate I am.  I am here.  My friends are here.  My love is here and he is healthy.  I am in my home, and I am able to rest.  Everything else, at least for today, can melt away and disappear for all I care. 

For that fleeting moment of clarity, I understood everything I needed to understand about life and the universe and my fleeting moment of existence in it.  It was but a glimpse, but it was uncomplicated and unambiguous and I am happy to have seen it before it disappeared as quickly as a tendril of steam wafting above a freshly poured cup of tea.