On a recent Saturday morning, I decided to melt, re-wick and clean up my dozen or so old candles that have been gathering dust for a long time. The project was generally pointless, took over an hour to complete but it felt deeply satisfying. Melting wax, the smell of the essential oils and the remembering how these candles came into my possession over the years were all components in the experience. Most importantly perhaps the fact that I had the leisure, mental and physical ability to spend a weekend morning in this way.
Not everyone my age and life-stage can do that. My friend L was out early that morning driving a couple of hours south of where we live to support her daughter who has been fighting a bout of illness and is not even twenty yet. B is out to be with his elderly mother who has been in a series of near death situations and yet too independent to ask for help or gracefully receive it when offered. Any number of folks I know have similar challenges they are coping with every day. My silly candle fixing project made me feel deeply grateful for what I have. That was the best reward of the project perhaps.
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