Wonder.
A few days ago, the meditation I had done was a reminder about the gift of wonder. The open opportunity we all possess to view this world and every little thing in it as a delight. The smell of cinnamon. The sound of crickets on a summer night. The aural pleasure of hearing children’s laughter. The feeling of spotting someone you know in a large (pre-pandemic) crowd. The sensation of sunshine warming your skin in any season. The glorious fatigue of muscles that have been worked doing an activity that you love as you settle into a cozy bed.
We can choose to approach our daily moments with a childlike curiosity… we need only engage a perspective shift and open our eyes. Put down our phones. Listen. Be aware.
Today, our first Monday of remote schooling, five days in, showed a vastly improved flow. The kids understood what was expected of them, we all had fresh heads and were renewed after a quiet but lovely weekend at home. Today, for some reason, many of the four kids had overlapping breaks. We had some fresh zucchinis that needed to be used so I began to bake a few loaves of zucchini bread. Slowly, each of the four kids came floating into the kitchen, and took turns shredding zucchini, measuring ingredients, mixing batter. It was really nice to bake with all of the kids together, hearing their little voices. I heard the voice from my meditation echoing in my mind about the smell of the cinnamon, the sound of the children. It totally changes the experience when you are aware of what you’re doing. Sometimes I fall into needing to get things done, or cracking the eggs on my own because it reduces the chance of finding eggshells. Less mess to clean up… my brain existing already in the what’s next and what if’s. Today was so nice. In-the-present-moment is such a nice place to be.
Then, once the bread went into the oven, I went into our backyard to get things done and noticed the hum of activity on our soft pink garden stonecrop. Bumblebees of all shapes and sizes, moths, flies. Earlier in the season, when I expected these to bloom, our finches pecked and nibbles and enjoyed their pretty pink tops before they could mature. We’d been at the beach quite a bit and I hadn’t noticed the second blossom, but it is now upon us and the tops of these rosy lily pads are a bustle with all varieties of bugs. The things you can notice when you take a breath and move a bit slower. Grateful today for the ability to smell and taste and see and hear. Our senses can welcome in countless wonders and delights…if we take a moment and tune in.
Care to share your thoughts?