We All Want to Find Our Way Safely Home

One of the hidden blessings of aging is time. On the one hand, one could say time is running out. I no longer have 60 years ahead of me to accomplish my heart’s deepest dreams. On the other hand, I no longer have babies and chauffeuring and pediatric appointments and children’s home work, evening baths and hockey, dance lessons, planning, shopping, preparing and cleaning up for meals to feed 4 or 6 or 8 or however many there might be on any particular evening for dinner. I just have me.

Today I have the total luxury of doing whatever I want to do. No appointments, have completed errands up to date, taken care of leaves thus far and put clean sheets on the bed for Valerie because she is coming in a couple of days for a sleep over. City errands and catch-up time. I celebrate I have room and energy for welcoming friends and family to use my downstairs when needs be.

Now I am blessed with time. Time to walk softly through my home and let my eyes have a feast. They feed upon the colours of light through the windows, leaves still on the trees or heaped on the ground in piles waiting to be collected into bags. My eyes soak up my living space, so totally new and almost unused, just becoming familiar and smoothly fitting into my days and nights. My eyes happily cuddle Aimee and feel her warm strong body pulled close to my heart. My ears hear music. They hear the clothes tumbling in the dryer. They hear squirrels scrambling up trees and scurrying through leaves. My ears hear the house settled. My heart, my eyes, my ears, my soul all feel me comfortable in my skin and I hear myself sigh and prepare to sit on my new leather chair with a book in my hand.

I have time to be exquisitely sensitive to the air that surrounds me. I am blessed with having time to live in the moment and to celebrate life without doing anything at all. I breathe deeply. I smile. I feel my heart beat, my skin shivers, my eyes blink, my tongue press against the roof of my mouth. I feel my cool bare feet flat on the smooth carpet and my corduroy tunic make no noise as my sleeves brush against my side. I feel an itch on the top of my head under my newly cut snow white hair and I scratch it.

This is my meditation. I meditate each moment. In each meditative moment I am grateful for my life. In each meditative moment my being sends out a prayer for all in this world to know safety. I pray with each meditative moment that the fear that lives beneath hatred and violence can be seen and all those who are afraid will let themselves be validated and everyone will learn to understand themselves and everyone else. Love can not come alive until fear is comforted. Fear cannot be comforted until trust has been established. Trusting takes faith in self and a Self greater than self.

We all want the same thing: to be safe, to be loved, cherished, held, wanted, to find HOME. That is the meaning of my day of freedom from tasks today- to meditate and pray we can all find our way home.

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