I'm working on a Self-Assessment for a career plan thanks to Professional Considerations for English Majors; ENGL 3000. I'm at the Pie Tin's library because I don't like hanging out at the house with Ex-numero Uno while the kids are gone to school and he works. I'm not liking being there much at all, but it is shelter, it is peaceful, it is largely available at no charge. Which was not the point of beginning this post.
I'm in the chrysalis. Mid-definition. In fact, redefining, rearranging, reconciling. This part of life is gooey. It needs direction, or at least little shoves from knowing hands that will send the goo in the general vicinity of the best of whatever comes next.
I got a message today from a man I haven't seen or spoken to in ten years. Last time we were together, he really was only a boy, and both of us were terribly hurt. For most of the years that have passed I believed that the silence was because he held longstanding animosity towards me. I have long believed I deserved this treatment. So when I received his cheerful response, apologetic that he hadn't noticed the message I sent five years ago because it wasn't in his regular inbox folder, I sat here in the library and cried. He said he'd checked the alternate inbox on recommendation from a friend.
I don't know how God does what he does, or how he manages to network us the way it seems to work out. But he knew I needed this today, and that nothing else would mean more.
The beauty of the universe is its laws, and that the elements and matter that fill it are obedient to the direction they are given. Thanks to the miracle of alignment. Thanks for the relief of regrets, carried ten years across the gentle curve of the crust that blankets a planet dwelling within the habitable zone of a G-class star that doesn't hold any particularly significant placement in a galaxy flowing with the coincidence the Old Testament called "milk and honey."
This thing, so small, so supernovic.