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All In The Day

March 24, 2018

There are days that turn into nights.

Like tonight.

I am home after dealing with Ambassadors, professors, a spouse, old friends, older friend, very young kids, faulty furnace connections, ancient objects, 4 cities from 30,000 feet, an article, this article, 4 pills and the last 90 minutes at Level 23 that is 12 hours out of phase.

The swirl of doing can be wildly displacing and connecting. Relationships over 50 years and made in the last 8 hours were a day that saw time become the binder and yet the barrier.

Efforting much, stuff gets done, but the thingness of any day has the humans as the agents of the dance.

A dozen hours saw all the pics shown above. And many others.

The day was started in a place I measured 2 years ago and reinvented with great good people, and now we complete the process. Including their furnace.

In those 8 hours 20 more pics were taken, and another 138 shown. To a dozen people 1/3 my age.

2 hours were spent doing nothing in an airport save eating and clicking on a device. On yet another article and a dozen other oddments.

But life is the harvest of the humans you connect with.

An architect a year ago, with me becoming a a Fellow, then her students today. My friends of 35 years who welcomed me to the morning, then my acquaintance of 50 years who welcomes me into her home in 10 days to allow another slide show and dinner with an intern from 35 years ago. Then travel back over New York, New Haven, Middletown, and Hartford, in sunset.

Then my wife’s bathroom was evaluated upon touchdown.

The swirl saw no disaster, some invention, and some dancing to get where the music led.

But it was done because the world is given to each of us, places and acts. All of us were simply fulfilling the actions of life that have been given to us. Me. You. Them.

Meeting with a Bishop and great good mentors in an airport the night before, introducing them on our plane, remembering how I induced laughter over a horrid Professor of my goddaughter to her as relayed by her folks maybe 10 years ago. A deleriously giddy thing, once forgotten.

Speaking to the dozen of young others for over an hour and all those slides at their same time in their lives as her when I made her laugh. I showed those young humans the oddness of 45 years ago: Ivy, male, White whiteness in a way that I hope made them see the world more fully as it is in my life. And could be for theirs.

And the pictures of my goddaughter then, in her room where we slept – her now a half continent and dozens of years away and her parents, our beloveds, remain, –

Then other pictures, now infusing our design, of my clients’ 3 children: tiny, then middle, then grown – spicing our design with a full depth of love and time that was the greatest gift of a day of gifts.

Even in Lent, there can be silence amid the din of engaged doing. To know it, all of it, is a gift, unearned, but compelling devotion born of faith, it is an occasional glimpse of God.

I am not sure I know how to thank a day like today. But thanks.

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