I slept under the trees of Minoru Park on Saturday and woke up with a blunt, a heavy yet liberating sort of resolution. A kind of feeling that there's a promise in the waiting but not one I'd totally expect, or want for that matter. At least, not right now.

But one of the greatest and most precious lessons I've learned from that bittersweet afternoon is that of cherishing. People talk all the time about stopping and smelling the roses, or of appreciating all the little things in life, but that doesn't come close to the strange thought I'd been endowed with by Someone who'd apparently been patiently listening. 

Cherish all. Learn to love the sunny days as well as the clammy grey when you hardly know where the skyline ends and the sky begins. Love comprehension as well as confusion as there is a glory that is achieved not without one or the other.

I've never felt as lost as I have the past few weeks, and try as I might, I can't get it to be over soon. Still, finally knowing (and not figuring) it's all happening for a reason has given me respite in the erratic pulls of an open sea, and I can live in a kind of peace that endures where it isn't supposed to. Somehow I feel it's that kind that makes the most sense.