The edge of the precipice threatens us all the time even though we sometimes deludedly imagine that it is a flat road with no surprises or setbacks.
A pandemic, an event, an illness, a loss, a memory, or a minor change in life generates trepidation and can easily throw us into anguish or uncertainty.
It is at that moment when I open my windows wide, look up and let the dusk of the day challenge me in a duel, let the brightness of the sun which struggles to survive the clouds reflect on my face. I feel the breeze caressing my face as it does the same with my mandarin tree and the blooms of my grapefruit. The breeze decides to bring me its perfume and calm me with its whisper. The sparrows and the tuis set out to soothe me with their song, trusting in their mother as they prepare for sleep.
There is a place inside me that is solid and sturdy. There is a hiding place inside me that does not fear the precipice and can walk across it on tiptoe as if dancing without looking into the abyss but with its eyes set on the blue sky.
I am not a hermit, but I am a quiet extrovert. I need silence. I need peace. I need solitude. I need green, flowers and birds. I need God.
