Growth: 2

Today I make it into the driveway
just as the pouring down ice begins to be a problem.

I cancel the piano lessons, and settle down at my table.
I sort through the mail I have finally picked up,
and watch the cars navigate the hill outside my kitchen window.

There is so much work I could do, really rather should do, on this late afternoon of unexpected time. But all I can bring myself to do is stare outside at that pouring down ice, as it pings against the house.

My soul feels riled,
as if this house is not a shield.

Before my staring eyes float thing after feels-uneasy thing,
found in this wintry mix of life-these-days,
and I watch as each one vies for my attention.

But then I think of a quote, sent by a friend, not too long ago:

It would be very dangerous to have no worries—or rather no occasions of worry. I have been feeling that very much lately: that cheerful insecurity is what Our Lord asks of us.
[CS Lewis~Yours, Jack]

And I realize I have grown, as I ping the uneasy things away.

Cheerful insecurity, this is what I choose instead.
I close the bag full of the work, I close the laptop full of the email.

I pick up the book,
I curl in my chair;
I listen to the falling ice,
and I read.

[grow, verb: to increase in size or substance; 
to spring up; to develop to maturity]