like fishes

Resist the terrible telling, the instructions, those voices who determine your wants; do not be afraid to live unpolished, perhaps unfinished, leave the walls unpainted and the leaves unraked, the house too small, the furniture too worn, if by doing so you linger an extra hour around a fire with sticks for poking and the rosiness of coals and smoke that follows you from seat to seat along with old jokes about beauty; if by doing so you play one more game cross-legged on the floor with your back aching and your child's laughter and then a nap with the cool air whispering across you through a window; if by doing so you tell the world you have discovered magic and here, here is some for you too if you will sit awhile with me; if by doing so you learn to love the dog who digs in your flowerbed and the cat who sleeps on your black pants and the rooster who believes that dawn arrives at 2:43 am, love the cup with the chip in it and the car you've been driving for years, the same dress you wore to the party last time and the time before, love the maple tree with its giant leaves that fall across the grass, love the crow that steals the baby birds you've watched so joyously in the nest - you do not always need a happy ending, this too is life - if by doing so you learn to leave the mowing for tomorrow and listen today to the space between the cars, that tiny space where sparrows and wind and secrets are revealed; if by doing so you learn to read the hard book, learn to say to yourself once a day, maybe twice: this is enough, all this is enough, and when the question comes to you between right and love, learn to choose love because it will reveal right in its own long time and you have time to wait for that but by all means you do not have time to wait for love; if by doing so you learn not to run after every flashing thing, learn to let your eye settle on one bit of brightness and consider it for awhile, watch it from your chair and ask yourself is it truly beautiful or is it merely a scrap of tin which stole a glint of the sun's unexpected grace; if by doing so you learn that worthy things will wait, aren't like commodities, won't be snatched up by others; if by doing so you learn that they are like loaves, or fishes, which multiply, and when the basket arrives, there will always, always be enough for you.