“I don’t want to listen to just what you say. I want to feel what you mean.”
Hugh Prather in Notes to Myself
A day of quiet introspection. I sit in peace. I breathe.
I turn off the news. I do not want to hear words about Trump. I do not want to hear words. I wear soft comfortable grey pull-on pants and T-shirt, bare feet, have made my bed, not brushed my teeth, had a cup of decaf. Aimee and I ate our granola.
I let the feelings of simplicity, not loneliness but precious solitude, softness, not pressure; feelings of opening fully to the wonder of life, slip over me like a silk breath on my skin. My thoughts are easy. I am grateful and pleased.
I look out the window and see emerald-green plants and trees, cerulean blue sky, startling pinks and yellows blooming in gardens, and a brilliant red cardinal singing on the telephone wire. Life, as I know it, in all it’s glory. No one else, anywhere, ever, has looked or is looking, at this particular scene. Never will it ever be exactly the same. One moment. My moment. Forever. Never. Always.
I want to sleep. I want to dance. I want to swallow every moment of all of life and be a glutton until there is no more to glean. I want to weep, I want to roar with laughter, I want to giggle at my silliness, I want to rejoice at life’s magnificence and surprises.
I want to stand up tall and accept my shortcomings. I want to curl up tiny and whimper. I want to sing my thanks for all the myriad of gifts inside me, surrounding me, ahead of me and those I have left behind.
I want to be understood.
- I am grateful for the gift of time to write
- I am grateful for my peaceful heart of today
- I am grateful for the gift of an open day for me
- I am grateful for life
- I am grateful for new wisdom as I allow life to teach me