It's 2am. Technically, it's Friday. I am exhausted.
The crickets are singing.
There is a mist rolling in... giving everything a reprieve from the heat and mugginess of the day.

This has been a crazy busy week.... an almost endless list of things that needed to get done...
most of which I did, indeed get done... and yet... there is an air of restlessness about me.
Of feeling ... lacking. Of not measuring up.
And I am aching.... physically. That constant throb of chronic pain that just never seems to ease up.
... along with ... hurting emotionally... worried about things going on with my son...
knowing that there is nothing really, that I can do... but weeping at the injustice of it all.

And then the headlines in the news... such tragedies abounding... that it makes you wonder how we have survived as a species at all.
How in some ways, we really haven't come so far.
But there is always hope. There has to be hope.
Tonight I am looking to the skies for that hope.
That star to wish upon... and I have to trust that it will all be ok.

I've read that all the things that happen to you... are your stories.
Anne Lamott wrote "You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories.
If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better."
More than that though, I think... is the ability to write your own endings.
Don't give up. Don't believe that things can't change.
Write your own gloriously happy ending.

---see you all tomorrow.

(photos for today's post are ones I took at dusk last evening.

The flowers are closed gentian, and are growing at the edge of our yard)