knee deep in weeds

notes on a simple life

you can't have everything

Take earth for your own large room and the floor of earth carpeted with sunlight and hung round with silver wind for your dancing place.

May Swenson

but. . . 

you can have the warmth of the dog curled up in your lap, the slight breath that flows from his mouth, ruffling is lips as he sleeps, content and loved
you can have the love of a good man, who accepts your quirks, your muddled love and your dark moments, giving you space for all three without pause or question
you can have fresh crab that smells like the sea, bright, tiny red strawberries, quiet with your morning latte, warm sourdough bread, and crunchy, autumn apples
you can have ah-ha awakenings of clarity, flashback memories of pain and joy,
and curiosity about what might come next
you can have yourself, and the opportunity to laugh and cry, to listen and share,
to whisper i love you, to say yes or no
you can walk in the foamy waves of the ocean, sit and listen to the flow of the rivers, 
and swim in cool, clear mountain lakes
you can watch for morning sunrises and pull over for pink sunsets, stop to smell the fist rose, and stand in the rain as it turns to showers
you can have this moment, to live fully in, to fill your heart to the brim, to seek joy in,
and find gratitude. . .  you can have all of this and so much more