Storm and Stars

Dear Kate,

Was it the storm last Friday or stars Sunday that finally convinced me to let go of Christmas?  Or the two of them conspired?

I don't know.

Somehow there was an internal logic to how one led to another and back, with me in the perfect storm, where the stars aligned.  God was speaking to me, loud but not clear, clear when not loud.  It's a private conversation that was at once universal.

For that I must try to explain to you.  But how?  You weren't there.  Let me do it the way God does it, by telling you a story.

Every morning after a night of rain I and my dog Sumi would walk across waters.

There is this big tree with strong root wreaking havoc on the pavement, pushed it up from underneath and created a concave on the walkway, now a pond of fresh rainwater too deep and wide for us to overcome.  The easiest way to circumvent the issue is to bypass the pond, but to bypass the pond we would need to circumvent also a car that's always parked beside the tree and thus bringing ourselves all the way to the middle of the road.  In those wee small hours of the morning there is no car on the road, so there is no danger to our circumnavigation.

But you see, I would never do that.

Instead with Sumi following I would walk up the mound that is erected by the tree root, risk sliding off the soaked slope (me, with two legs not four), and bring ourselves back down to the other side of the pond.

Why would I do that?

There is a logic that's not really logical, for there is a risk that is none too risky.  I was thinking, What if one day Sumi is to get lost and need to find her own way home?  The chance is slim, that she would get lost—but What if?  I can see her finding her way exactly how she found herself walking with me, all these stormy mornings, all those starry nights.  She wouldn't know cars might run on the road, or that she will need to over run them to not be run over.

How do I explain that to her, when we are up—or down the mound?  Is it necessary?  Is there a way even if necessary?

Now what if one day she is to start worshipping the mound, sensing that the whole exercise has to do with her safety and thinking that the mound is what makes her safe?

The storm and the stars, signposts to this pilgrim, to search for them again next year and expect the same solace though wouldn't do me any homecoming good.

Yours, Alex