Living…

In the past week, I've run up against so many reminders of the fleetness of this life.

Last week's stormy weather—the first of the season—took me inevitably, unwillingly, back to a year ago (seems like yesterday)…those dark days when my mother was wrestling against her exit from this earthly plane. In the end, it took the winds of the storm of the century to carry her tenacious soul on to the next world…

Several friends of the café have gone on, as well, in the past few weeks. And there are one or two who look as if they are not far behind…

So, when I have a few moments to collect my thoughts, to hold them up and inspect them from every angle, I see that there has been somewhat of a sea change in my attitude…at least for the present. This person who once tended toward melancholy and depression, toward discontent and unfulfillment, has somehow learned to set her sights higher.

If there is beauty in my world, I reach out and grab it…hold it gently in my hand and gaze at it. I let it sink down into my soul like gold dust to the bottom of a stream.

If there is laughter, I gather it up and store it in my heart.

If there is joy, I let myself feel it down to my toes.

I immerse myself in the deep gratitude—to the Universe, the Creator—that rises up to meet me at the shriek of an eagle, the sparkle of fairy lights, the mysterious white visage of the full moon, the kaleidoscope of the changing seasons, the rhapsodic harmonies of inspired music… If for only a moment or two, I completely give myself over to that joy.

And it gets me through the day. And more.