Today, with tender words and images, I want to have a quiet look at tenderness.
May is a tender month still, always. Not fragile exactly, just open to hurt and disappointment, and to waking joy
that can too easily be chased.
Let’s be still as we can, consider it.
Incipience. Smallness against bigness. The awkward. The ephemeral. The doomed. Each little thing that breaks our heart—and then mends it again.
A root seeks water.Tenderness only breaks open the earth.This morning, out the window,the deer stood like a blessing, then vanished.”
—Jane Hirshfield, from Standing Deer
“The nourishment of Cezanne's awkward apples is in the tenderness and alertness they awaken inside us.”
“Tender," she said again. "Tender is kind and gentle. It's also sore, like the skin around an injury.”
—Brenna Yovanoff, The Space Between
Be tender, in this often less than tender world. Be tender and be well.
images: Christie B. Cochrell, cobweb, tendrils, bird on Hadrian’s Wall, statue hand
Gaston de la Touche
pine buds, Brylie Oxley