When a plate breaks, we call it an accident. When a heart breaks, we call it sad. If it is ours, we say tragic. When a dream breaks, we sometimes call it unfair.
It’s not that we moan, but that we stop living to hear ourselves moan.
Still, stars collide and histories begin. In our world, something is always letting go and something is always hitting the Earth.
Often that which lets go survives by releasing, by not holding on until what needs to go is ripped from it.
As humans, we take turns letting go and being hit. Love softens this process, and peace slows it down, until in moments that are blessed, we seem to play catch with what wee need.