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(Photo: Part of my route with the: PIT count, January 2019, http://hsh.sfgov.org/research-reports/2019pitcount/)

In little glimpses of where you are coming from, you describe your childhood to a friend:

how you spent summer nights sleeping under the tamarisks, on the cool lawn, with the chickens pecking at you in the morning;

how your sister and you’d ride your ponies with the neighbor-girl Dawn, how Dawn lost her thumb, how you hardly learned to ride a bike;

how you’d invite friends over to your “pool:” four old plastic trash cans you’d fill with water you’d all stand in and chat;

how you had dozens of cats (and, in the rare photos you have to recall those childhood days, there are cats and cats);

how you, an awful budding violinist, would perform concerts for the horses;

how you aren’t frightened by darkness or solitude or most of God’s creatures;

how, even now, a middle-aged woman in the city, you find ways to celebrate the beauty all around.

*

For January 16, A Year with Rumi: Daily Readings offers:

“Let the Beauty We Love”

 

Today, like every other day, we wake up empty

and frightened. Don’t open the door to the study

and begin reading. Take down a musical instrument.

 

Let the beauty we love be what we do.

There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.

*

What are the hundreds of ways you celebrate beauty?

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