I love nature. Dew on roses in early morning. Vast fields of sunflowers raising their heads. The chorus of cicadas in summer. Rhythmic winds that sound like ocean waves. They’re harmony. But wind also destroys and water rushes in and rises. Fire and ice.
J. will sometimes ask me, based on the elemental forces in our lives, what’s your weather? Right now it’s mostly cloudy with peeks of sun. I move from joy to fear in the span of a New York second.
We are moving and I am thrilled. We are moving and I am afraid. New city. New people. New habits to make. New streets to learn. Clients we hope to meet. Clients here we hope to keep.
We clap for our kids when they do or learn something new and I’m amazed now as a high-functioning, independent adult that I might need to be clapped for. I met with a client in his 30s this week and when I told him we are moving soon, he stopped what he was doing to pin our location on his computer screen and understand the address and everything around it worth celebrating. He was joyful for us. Two of the busiest clients we have gave our news the same show of support, affirming our next move and engaging the fun and high points of it over an hour of emails.
Woodland, wetland and wildlife dance with architecture in a client’s upscale residential development. One of the best headlines I’ve written, inspired by the famous text in Isaiah, was for an ad for a music theatre playbill. The trees clap their hands.
Fear kills the joy of anticipation. Fear stomps exhilaration. More than an offer to pack boxes, I’m realizing the largesse of the gift of a friend’s excitement and spirit to clap.
Isaiah 55:12, For you will go out with joy and be led forth with peace. All the mountains and the hills will break forth before you into singing and all the trees will clap their hands.