Hello friends,
It’s been a couple of weeks since I sent out a regular letter. Sorry about that. If you’ve been reading these missives for long enough, you’ll know that sometimes I become the embodiment of a battery at one percent. I used to feel so guilty when I got like that, but six years post-diagnosis, I know that’s just life with MS.
This morning, I woke up a bit more clear-headed than I’ve been lately. After a leisurely morning, I decided to do some weeding with my boost of energy. I had nearly finished when I felt the first raindrops. Thunder grumbled as I pulled the last few unwanted visitors from the bed. And yet, the sun still shone. Summer has arrived.
In Florida, sun showers are ubiquitous from about June through September. If you ask any Floridian what they think of when they think of summer, many will mention the near-daily afternoon rains. Without fail, around three or four o’clock, the skies open. If it’s dark and cloudy, the rain will likely be heavy. If the sun’s out, it’s more likely the rain will only last a few minutes. In Florida, it’s not at all unusual to need your sunglasses in the middle of a downpour. And it’s a great reminder of the balance and impermanence of life.
I’m now sitting on the porch writing this letter. The sun is shining and there isn’t a cloud in the sky. A steady drip of water falls from the overflowing gutter. My fatigue is still present, as always, but today it’s lurking beneath the surface rather than swallowing me whole. What was true yesterday is not necessarily true today. The rain always stops, and it always comes back again.
Until next time,
Yardena
Weekend Potpourri
Apparently, sundial mottoes used to be a thing. There’s a whole book of them. I kind of want to come up with a motto for my phone now.
Hundreds of thousands of acres of California desert have been covered with solar panels. But the push toward renewable energy has caused unintended environmental problems.
For your weekly serotonin boost, I now present to you a cat with a harem of guinea pigs and a ton of capybaras jumping into a lake.
Thanks for reading. This edition of Letters on Being is free, but if you feel like giving me a little extra support, please consider upgrading to a paid subscription. In the meantime, do you have sun showers where you are?
A marvelous piece. I wish you more moments of peace and freedom and delight and contentment.