WORDS THAT AWAKEN
June 20, 2021, 4:40 a.m.
My goal for today is to be totally attentive. The word derives from the Latin word for ‘stretch’, which reminds me that I will need to stretch – to reach out and expand beyond my self-centered likes and dislikes, so I can see – and pay close attention to – the majesty that will be all around me today. I want to pay a serious visit to each present moment. I want to take careful note of what’s happening – my fingers smoothly moving across the computer keyboard, the soapy water sliding with ease across plates in the sink, my shoes softly brushing the floors as I walk through the house. Today, I want to truly notice what’s happening – not just see it, but actually become totally aware of it – scrutinize it, inspect it, study it. One branch bending in a breeze today is worthy of my total attention, as is each word someone speaks, each flutter of light and shadow, each smile or frown on a face. I want to be a watchful friend today – someone who loves life and stays alert to its marvels. I want to be on guard, ready to greet the goodness that will be breaking forth on all sides all day.
GRASS June 20, 2021 It's just like you. It stands where it's supposed to stand. It sighs when things go wrong - a wild wind that wasn't expected, a thousand footprints of sparrows, a shirt of blistering sunlight. Just like you, the little things are pleasing to grass - a golden scarf of sunshine, the adventures of a youthful breeze, the music of shoes walking. You learn lessons every day, and so does the grass - to grow when it can, to relax and lean away when a wind comes, to share its life with sticks and blossoms and castaway things. There's silence in your life, as in the grass's - the peace of your pleasant thoughts, the serenity of standing with brother and sister grass blades in the starlight.