We can make an altar on the island in the kitchen -- which, if you're like me, is where we find ourselves most often -- or in an actual portable matchbox.
我們可以在廚房的中島(若你跟我一樣最常在這里活動)或真正的可攜式火柴盒中搭起圣壇。
Life wants to keep reminding us of its sacred self, but we have to open our eyes and hearts. Yes, our hair looks like hell, and we're out of shape, and dislike our mate, and shouldn't have had children, but God, what a sunset. And I so appreciate the roof over my head. There is an exuberant patch of poppies and weeds outside in the rocky dirt. The poppies are lanterns: light over darkness, good over evil. Light your lantern with self-love. Shine.
生活不斷提醒我們它神圣的本質(zhì),但我們必須打開雙眼與心胸。沒錯,我們的頭發(fā)亂糟糟、身材走樣、討厭身邊的配偶、不該生孩子,但是天哪,多美的日落。我也非常感謝我頭上的屋頂。外面的石質(zhì)土中,有一小片生氣勃勃的罌粟和雜草。罌粟就像是燈籠:光明戰(zhàn)勝黑暗,善良戰(zhàn)勝邪惡。用對自己的愛點亮你的燈籠,閃耀吧。
We can't feel many people's warm skin, but we have the scarf that Emmy knit, the cap Granddad left us, our first toolbox that an uncle assembled for our eighth birthday even though we were a girl. These are as sacred as the statues and tapestries we would see in mosques, temples, Zendos, ashrams. We leave them around, to remember love.
我們無法感受到許多人溫暖的肌膚,但我們擁有艾米織的圍巾、爺爺留下的帽子,還有我們八歲生日時叔叔為我們準(zhǔn)備的第一個工具箱,盡管當(dāng)時我們都還是個小女孩。這些就像在清真寺、寺廟、禪室、靜修處見到的雕像和掛毯一樣神圣。我們把這些留在身邊,用來記住愛。