A Stirring

A Stirring

Intellectually I knew that the holiday on the calendar was more than a few black and white marks on a page. But for me it was just another day on the calendar, an extra day off from work and, on the up side, a great family day even though there were chairs that were newly empty. The sound of their missing laughter was a slowly fading memory. But there was something more stirring - an intuitive knowing. My curiosity stirred. I tried to ignore it. Curiosity, or rather following ‘my heart’, had too often gotten me into trouble with someone so I had learned to play it safe. Everything had to be ordered and scheduled, with no spontaneity to it. But still there was that stirring? What was it? According to yesterday’s designation, I was supposed to be Thankful, but there was a lump in my heart that held me still even while I felt a softness. A softness that swirled around me like an early morning mirage on a sunlit morning. Cool, with the promise of warmth as the sun rose in an open sky. Gilt edged pink drifts of cloud merely hovering on the horizon at sunrise, stirred by the wind. 

“At sunrise everything is luminous but not clear."

~ Norman MacLean, A River Runs Through It and Other Stories