The treasures in my evacuated personal well

Refugee.

The days of the refugee within our borders are with us. Evacuees. That also describes them. And it describes me. I have no home to go to.

I am not in a flood zone. And yet I am in another's home with no where to which I might return. This is a phase of my life which I did not plan. I saw it coming. I also watched it bear down on me with the force of a wall of mud. There is a difference - actually many differences. The prime difference I see is that I asked for this change in so many actions and words. I had no idea what was coming. And I still do not.

This morning I sit at the PC of some friends listening to BBC 6 giving you my current thoughts. Today- what day is this? Yesterday I could not remember the date. And I can't blame that on age. At 50, I am on the downslide of an unknown slope. But I am not without my faculties. They're just strewn about. My inner landscape looks a bit like New Orleans. Most everything is there. But you may have a time trying to make out anything familiar. And you may not be able to use anything familiar for awhile.

Gratitude. Let me tell you about gratitude. I will never appreciate what my friends have done for me in my time of rootlessness. They are treasures. And they are precious. Look around you and see your treasures. Even the view from your window(s) can be a treasure. That old adage "you don't miss your water till your well goes dry" is very true.

Today, take a drink from the pool of your treasures. And get ready for the day of the dry well. But don't push it away or pull it towards you. It will come soon enough.

Just drink.