Do you sometimes practice Presence?
Listening to birds sing in trees, feeling sandals on gravel, seeing shades of green thimbleberry leaves.
When thoughts arise, watching them.
Sometimes, if a thought snags you like a thistle burr, you label it “thought” and relax in what arises, again and again.
Sometimes Barry drops me off up on Townline Road when he goes to work.
In the 7 o’clock hour I walk, feet, feet, chickadee, daisy, black-eyed Susan, distant logging truck, feet, feet, hands in pocket, mama and fawn on the road.
How often do we miss our lives altogether, instead focused on a million inner thoughts, a million inner dramas, a million to-dos and wanna-bees and shoulda, woulda, coulda?
I eat breakfast quinoa, cashews, blueberries, yogurt slowly. Spoon, chew, blueberry burst. Thoughts threaten distraction, but you know the drill. “Thought,” you say, teeth crunching cashews.
You’re here. Now. This.
Precious present moment. Unfathomable mystery.
You know what they say, don’t you?
This moment is our present.
Revel in it.
No other moment will be like this. We can be here now in this ever-changing amazement.