The wonder of this moment
that is here and will never come again,
overflowing with oh so much life
the sunshine and the color
and the silence (or
of so much everything
all aroundContinue reading “quite here in the moments”
Sometimes I have the foresight to make coffee before I go to bed. I load the water in the tank, pile the coffee grounds in the basket, and apply a sticky note to the front of the machine to remind me that all I have to do is press the “on” button to start the brew the next morning.
There came a morning when I was tired of it all. I dragged myself out of bed out of a sense of obligation and dragged myself around the house, resentful that I wasn’t still dreaming strange adventures or lost in oblivion, and generally ready to retire except for the fact that I had “real-world” obligations hanging over my head.
I grumbled into the kitchen and was caught short by the little sign on the coffee machine.
I just went out to pick a poo that Willow had left near the front door. It is a beautiful night — warm, not hot — comfortable — bright and sunny, the light from the not-quite-ready-to-set sun bouncing off fluffy white clouds against a brilliant blue sky — and it occurred to me I have lived more summers than I have left to live.
It was not a sad thought, because it rarely occurred to me, in all those summer days past, to treasure the moment the way I just cherished this evening. It was a magic moment, even though its purpose was to pluck five lumps of dog feces off the the ground and drop them in a plastic bag — magic because I felt so grateful for being alive to experience it — for having the sense to notice the magic — for having a sweet 11-year-old dog who is still alive and being loved and loving and producing good solid nuggets of healthy waste — for living in this home where Cj and I have made our lives — for the air that I breathe and the love in my heart — for life itself — for the flowers she has grown to bring even more color to this colorful world — for the full tummy from a full meal that so many in this world will not have tonight — as E.E. Cummings wrote so brilliantly:
i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes
And I know how he felt when he concluded,
(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)