My Daily Bread

I have had my literal daily bread: toasted sprouted grains Ezekiel bread, with a couple of yard eggs.  Thankful, yes, and now for my daily bread of talking to myself, or whatever being here is called.  I just spoke with a friend who has a lilt to her voice that is always so uplifting and encouraging.  I wonder if she is aware of the effect she has on someone like me.  I doubt it, so I tell her, “It is so good to hear your voice!”

The weather has gotten a bit warmer.  It won’t last long, given that winter has just begun and we were blasted this last week, all of us, with arctic temperatures of below zero.  I just hope the people on the streets are finding places to be warm, with enough food to sustain them.  Survival is down to the basics: food, shelter, and clothing.  Here, I cannot complain, even if the jugs of water on my kitchen floor have frozen.  At least I have a wood stove that burns the wood I gathered, on which I can place a pot of water that stays warm.  The animals are happy to come indoors and find water to drink.  They are my only company and I am glad to share my space with them.  Outside, the birds are eating the birdseed I put out.  I should probably refill the feeder one of these hours, before the next wave of freezing rain comes.

Meanwhile, the millions that are trying to meet their bills without a job, dependent on unemployment benefits, are waiting to see if the fat cats in the House are going to come through for them, without conditions.  I wish those people who are getting their pay, thanks to the taxes paid by the people, could live in the shoes of all who are scrimping by.
Maybe then they would fathom how difficult it is and show some compassion.

One day at a time is how we live.  For some, it is one moment at a time.  Maintaining a good attitude in the face of hardship is a challenge.  In my case, I allow myself to go through the gamut of feelings and usually end up releasing all my angst via salty tears that stream from the corners of my eyes as I try to drift off to sleep at night.  I know I cry for my own feelings of woe, but when I remember all the others who also have this feeling of lack, I know I cry for them, as well.  Nobody knows how it will turn out.  Nobody knows when trouble will cease.  The challenge of being here in this time, this dimension, was apparently, what we sought by jumping into these bodies.  Calling on the ONE is what so many of us do, and It sustains us for a bit.  Then the next moment, or day arrives, and to stay positive is our ongoing challenge.  We can think about all of it as much as we like, but ultimately, keeping ourselves centered and free of fear is about the best we can do.  I notice that when I manage to do this, I can meet the day with a lot less despondency.

How many have survived the most horrid of conditions?  There are too many to count.  In the end, we perhaps realize that there is no end.  Life simply is, and we are part of it.  May each of us find our daily bread and recognize the needs of others.  Somehow, may we all see that we are here only for each other, and like my friend with the lilt in her voice, give sustenance and encouragement, a form of manna from heaven, life-giving and free.

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