30 March, 2011
i sat outside this morning. my meditation was on the perfect espresso (with freshly grated nutmeg) and the new toast catalogs, where i can get lost in a study of color, light, and coveted things. a little rumi rounded out the trifecta. the eagerness of spring seems to have arrived overnight. the pittosporum and the jasmine contributing to drunken evenings, the roses promising to burst into obscenity at any moment. then there are the birds. en masse and solo, blue and red-tailed, even the crows, they fly crazy with delight from branch to perch. has it always been this way? or am i just awake?
some call it “being in the flow,” the matrix, the vortex–that connected sense of crossing into greater awareness and spirit. i’ve had a taste again, of living from the heart. of pleasure and faith. of open doors and the kind of honesty that sets fire to the story. and while i am as restless as the hummingbird to know where the next adventure will take me, to move through the air and to arrive somewhere that smells of rich nectar and heat, i am holding to this moment. the one that tastes the grit at the bottom of the cup, and that turns the page into yet another image of shadowed perfection.
Do not seek any rules or method of worship. Say whatever your pained heart chooses. ~Rumi
photo: toast catalogs and my favorite mug. on the porch, today.