Comfort in the Wreckage

The other night I dreamed that I wrecked the car--it doesn't take someone with an advanced degree in Psychology to interpret that dream.  I have spent some time wondering about the symbolism.  Does my subconscious think I'm self-destructing?  But the car wreck wasn't my fault--I didn't realize I was supposed to merge into the lane; I thought it would be my lane.

Maybe it does take someone with an advanced degree in Psychology after all.  But my degree is in English--maybe I'm thinking about the symbolism too much.

In any case, that's how many of us in South Florida feel:  we're living in the wreckage.  And yes, I feel guilty about feeling that way because it could be so much worse.  We're not in the lower Keys or Puerto Rico, after all.

Last night I found comfort in Krista Tippett's latest book:  Becoming Wise.  It's a wonderful compilation of segments of her past shows and her meditations on what it all means.  I may have a more extensive review later, but it's one of those books that I will return to again and again, especially in the middle of the night when I need something that stops my hamster mind from going round and round on a wheel of worry.

My spouse needs a different approach.  I said, "I prescribe you some time in the sun." 

He said, "O.K. Doc."

Yes, with my Ph.D. in English, I can prescribe sunshine.  Even in the wreckage, we can find comfort in time in the sun and a good book.