Wednesday, December 31, 2025, 7* F, 70% RH, 0746
Like the last sip of coffee from a once brimming cup, 2025, the last day arrives. Did I expect to be here? Mariah has gone. Soleil illumines trees marching uphill. Do trees expect to capture her glow? Great expectations, like a child before Christmas. Is there a difference in expectations and wishes? And if, we don’t expect, can we be disappointed? Can we be surprised? Can we continue calmly to whatever may arise?
At a courthouse interview for a clerk’s job, I was asked, “What is your five-year plan?” Not a question I had expected. I took a deep breath watched the brown eyes assessing my reaction. “I don’t have a five-year plan. I have a life. Five years is a long time (doesn’t seem long now). Circumstances change. I will change with them.” In reality this question was the interviewer’s way of finding out if I wanted to get married, have children, questions not allowed to be asked.
Haven’t reached that last sip, coffee cooling in a blue cup, unbreakable so the ad proclaimed. Ice skims stream and pond, freezes a picture of motion to be released some other time.
May we have the grace to continue to and through whatever may arise.
Photo: LJ Austin
