A wisp and a whisper

Ash Wednesday

For the Lord knows whereof we are made;
and remembers that we are but dust.

Psalm 103:14

I awaken startled from a dream that lingers, leaving me with wisps of loss and confusion. It takes a moment to come to my full senses, to regain my equilibrium and the familiarity of my space, my home. I have to breathe intentionally before I can enter into my morning ritual.

My dream and its aftermath echo the disruption I continue to experience in the day-to-day. We are all looking for the familiar--the traditions, rituals, and patterns that we once knew, and which bring us comfort. But the framework of our life has been broken, what we know irrevocably altered, and the way forward remains uncertain despite the gradual return of practices we had to set aside two years ago.

Perhaps the only question we can answer is what to do with this moment. Perhaps the only way forward is to let go of the very idea of patterns.

So. I will enter this day knowing only that this moment is for ashes.  And taking to heart that I am a wisp and a whisper, I am dust into which the Holy One breathed life, I am known and remembered.