Sunday, June 5, 2011
This morning, I find Sue in the garden, weeding. I sit with her briefly and chat while I write the monthly rent check, then I step into the car and drive off into a perfectly glorious spring day. The greens in the Lorane valley are vibrant, a raptor wheels overhead, and bicyclists spin past me on the way, probably, to wine tastings up the valley. This is all perfectly typical.
Why is it then, that I feel so, so happy? The world out there is not different, it’s been like this for weeks. Of course, there is only one possible conclusion; my inner environment has changed.
I find myself looking forward to every moment this day has on offer; a walk in the woods, a nice lunch, phone calls to valued friends, a cold beer on the patio. Later, I’ll read myself to sleep. All of it is savored today, because of how I am inside. I find myself wishing I could live here all the time, instead of in the space I was in when I wrote my last post. Wouldn’t that be nice, if I could be in this spacious, accepting, savoring place all the time, or even just more of the time?
Spending time in silent contemplation certainly increases the average.