goodness

GOODNESS. ... As in, goodness me, I stayed out till 12:30 on a weeknight (have you heard about the one where this teacher walks into a bar?). As in, thank goodness an ocean is only water, and years are only time. Friendships that are meant to last cannot be thwarted by distance or decades.

... And as in, I am surrounded by goodness, the kind Gerard Manly Hopkins describes in "Pied Beauty," goodness to which I must pay more regular attention. I took K to the dog park Wednesday while Scott did his miles 'round Manoa reg. For about thirty-five seconds, I was blindingly happy. Three young dogs nipping at each other and one old codger of a Schnauzer sitting contentedly on his owner's lap, the late-setting sun, the ducks overhead, and fresh-cut grass ... life was perfect. It was hard to imagine that in so many other corners of the Earth there's so much violence and danger going on, while there in Manoa Valley I was overwhelmed with grace. The only discord was an occasional disputed umpire's call a field away.

I'm not usually this maudlin. I just realized (at the dog park and last night at the tiny dark bar where I felt so strangely at home) that like everyone, I get so caught up in the minutiae and the distressing daily news from around the world that I forget to take in all that's good about any given moment, right here and right now. I am having a fabulous pizza with my best friend since 7th grade. My hair is a silly shade of blue. We are planning our weddings. We are not being bombed. Refills on iced tea are free. It's nearly summer. I can see every color in the bouquet of flowers Scott got me the other day. The dog has a cowlick. My students from two years ago still visit. We'll soon have a new president. I have new books for the weekend. I love and am loved. I'm going to Mom's for dinner.

Goodness.