This morning, as I sat on my porch, coffee in hand, full of body aches and scattered ponderings, I opened one of my go-to books to settle me into meditation, and this poem was what I landed on:
Enough. These few words are enough.
If not these words, this breath.
If not this breath, this sitting here.
This opening to the life
we have refused
again and again
I looked out at the mountains and ever-changing sky display. I felt the cool, crisp air on my bare arms and noticed goosebumps arising. I listened to the chatter of songbirds and crows, the cars on the road, the plane overhead. I felt the burn of black coffee and the ungluing of my eyes. For a split second, it all came together, my beautiful, messy life. And I felt David Whyte’s poem down to my toes. I awoke. So really, what else is there to say?
Just this: I wish this for you, too. I send this to you now!