A Strange Calm

As suffering swirls, there is a calmness inside.  I do not worry.  I have hope that love makes a difference.  I am detached from drama.  I find joy in mundane interactions.  I do not fear mistakes.  I no longer need to be the best.  It is a very strange calm. And I wonder if the calm is because life is generally good.  Or is life good because of the calm? How would I respond to a family tragedy?  What if I became seriously ill, or more difficult, if husband or daughter or sister or brother became ill.  I feel like I’m in a zone, able to endure what comes my way.


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