This will probably be one of the first 4ths of July in recent history where there will be scant, if any, fireworks celebrations and parades. If they do go on, people are encouraged to participate from their cars, or watch from the safety of their homes. Health officials are definitely discouraging folks from flocking to the beaches and attending large gatherings or picnics, as they would normally do. With so much unrest and anger flying around, in Washington and one’s own neighborhood, one may become overwhelmingly frustrated. The pandemic numbers are soaring in our country every day, without an end in sight. How can we come together and feel celebratory, if even in a tiny group? How can we remind ourselves to feel grateful for what we do have?

This was put into stark, literal perspective for me when my ceiling came crashing down this week. No, I’m not kidding. I suppose it’s apropos that if my world was really going to start to crumble, it would choose to do so in 2020. I mean, why not, right? It started with a crack that quickly grew overhead in our kitchen. Now mind you, the building is older, so this wasn’t really anything new. But the severity of the split was quickly growing. So much so, that in a matter of days, it had started to separate and hang slightly from the ceiling. We pointed it out to our landlord, who agreed to start pricing out some plasterers.

The following day, I was doing the dishes when I heard a loud snap behind me, followed by the sound of tiny pebbles scattering along the floor. Glancing overhead, I thought, I’d better get out of the kitchen. Sure enough, seconds later, several huge chunks of the plaster gave way, crashing to the ground, bouncing off the stove, and shattering a picture frame on the wall in the process. It broke and scattered across the floor, sending shrapnel skittering everywhere, along with dust. It was scary, to say the least. If I’d been anywhere near there, let’s just say I would not have fared well if any of those pieces had landed on my head. Unlike drywall, plaster is heavy stuff, as I learned trying to clean up the rubble. Staring at the now exposed old wood beams, I saw where the cement that had been holding the plaster in place all these years, had started to crumble. This was what accounted for the smaller pieces of material littering the ground.

There was no water damage, so that was something. Since we rent, we would not have to foot the bill, so that was a plus. Neither myself, my partner, or our fearless feline, Tessa, had been injured in the fallout. Next week, we’re going to get our ceiling fixed. All in all, there are many things to be grateful for. Even, to laugh about. When the Blessing Moon shines her light brightly over your head this Sunday, search yourself. I’ll be honest, at the time, I wasn’t laughing. But I’ll bet you can find some things to be grateful for, even in this topsy-turvy world we’re dealing with right now. Meditate on it and give thanks to the Gods and Goddesses for the good in your life. It’s there. Trust me.

 

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