Simple Pleasures

The days are feeling over before they have even begun. They stretch into one another, and time has become a parable that stretches thousands of years, passing from mouth to mouth, heart to heart. I am fragile. Movies, books can be a resting place; they can also be a catalyst for too much thinking. A dangerous place as I may be awake in the night, unable to cull my mind into a rational resting place. My body, no longer a time bomb, has become open. I pray often. I look inward. I am reaching, reaching, into the cosmos in the hopes to find the connection and solitude of my own heart and yearnings.

A fire is built, and the second pot of coffee is brewing. My fingers are active on the keyboard and the wind whistles through the crack in the window, outside it fills the air with soothing water sounds. The day is grey my body slow with the aches of yet another moon cycle. But I am at peace. It is a time for creativity and pondering. It is a time for spelling out the sensations, colors, stories and messages that lie deep in my soul with paint onto canvass.

I have not made it this far in for a while. I have been rather productive in life and mistranslating healing into discipline and social networking. Today I am inward and I know all that matters is close and does not need an agenda. The only agenda is the now. My needs are simple and met. Love being the greatest of them all. How lucky I am to have love.

As the flames flicker, my large black lab laps water from the giant stainless steel bowl on the kitchen floor. Steve is perched on his usual stool with a steaming cup of coffee, watching the animals, watching me. Simple pleasures. Simple needs. Simple life.