A divine Sunday morning.
A divine love for life, for the breeze, for the changing seasons.
It is so tempting, often irresistible, to live in a state of perpetual longing, a dissatisfaction with the present conditions.
I find myself waiting for fall, waiting for love, waiting for any change to come and sweep away my woes, yet they return in changing forms.
When the moment I have waited for arrives, I find myself clinging to its form, suffering at the thought of what may follow. This is not a reason to be down, though sometimes I am anyway; instead it can be a reason to be deeply present with the current of sensations, the fullness of this moment, and the knowledge of its eventual, inevitable shift, in a way that invites us all to witness the individual dysfunction and divinity of each and every mark on this journey of living.
Today I will find it, this perspective that each moment is an opportunity to be fully immersed in the experience of living; tomorrow I may lose it, and struggle to locate any truth, even a moment’s worth, within the flurry of impressions and endless flux and the restless desire to speed past today’s woes at the expense of its pleasures. This, too, is an expression of the rich palliate of human experience, receiving its purpose from the decision to more fully explore and express it.
For this reason, I leave these words here; may they be a reminder of the eternal movement of our lives, of the importance of living saturated in each and every experience, of the eventual fading and shifting of each day’s truth.
May I find composure in these lines whenever I feel myself in futile avoidance or smashing head-on into the feelings of the moment, worried they may never leave my vision.
May this knowledge summon the space between the moments of grasping and grabbing and fearing and running; may these precious gems in the mire of modern living be the default, my gift to myself and the world, the gift of even just one moment of intentional presence with the breeze, the light, the rain, the feelings, whatever form they take.
May the fear of permanence and its antithesis, the fear of change, be transformed into the action of a deep breath, and may it be of benefit.