I am very lucky, at age 80, to be still living an ever-evolving life in an ever-evolving universe. Whether I notice it or not – and I often don’t – all of life, including me, is constantly developing itself, always unrolling in brand new directions. Life, to me, can sometimes seem timeworn, stagnant, and tedious, but that’s simply an illusion that hides the ever-progressing wonders of reality. Where I often see tediousness and sameness, only ongoing transformation is happening. All things are always moving forward. In the midst of the many sorrows in the world, I’m sure kindness is constantly making new headway, and where tragedy is, I’ll bet sympathy is continuously spreading out in new ways. I sometimes – but definitely not always – feel my life evolving in constructive directions, as if new vistas are constantly opening up for me. I believe my life, in many mysterious ways, is somehow always enlarging, although – again – I am only occasionally aware of it. I often go about my daily dealings in a fairly mindless manner, as if life is a great big and rigid bore, when I believe the truth is that it’s continually unfolding in fully fairy-tale ways. Perhaps age 81 – coming up – will be another wake-up call for this dozy old and lucky dude.
(Harrison P., 61, Blessings CT)
He’s a believer
in living with devotion.
Every day, he revels
in all the living moments
as they evolve and revolve
through the infinite levels of his life.
He constantly feels revived
just by swerving into the next second
in the uneven but devout way
the universe – and he – live.
Sometimes I see things so startling that it’s almost like a lion roaring to remind me of how surprising life is. These wake-up calls come not from strange and outlandish things, but from just the simplest, most commonplace stuff of everyday life. If I’m sort of dozing in my thoughts while walking around the yard, suddenly I might see a set of trees along our street standing so straight and self-possessed, and I’m startled into wakefulness by the simple rightness of them. Or, if I’m sleepwalking through some humdrum household tasks, out of the blue I might notice a yellow bowl on a table beside a window, and that small, undistinguished bowl seems to shout at me to wake up and watch for the ever-present wonders around me. I’m thankful that these lions in my life roar quite regularly to keep me alert. I can effortlessly daydream through most of any day, but usually some small, obvious thing – a single shadow on the lawn, a fluttering leaf, a sky so blue it stuns – roars to me now and then, and I bow in my heart in thanks.
A GRAND, GRAY-HAIRED RAINBOW
a poem about Ellie G., 46, Blessings, CT, USA
This is the day
on which rain is making
a loving miracle that clings to grass and trees
and friendly roads,
and roars with special softness.
This is the day
when dancing is what her heart does,
and singing is what computer keys do,
and kindness is showering all things,
and thinking is a way of prancing
along the jumbled, joyful roads of this life,
the life which is choosing her
right now and through the dampened day
to be blue and yellow and pink and green,
a grand, gray-haired rainbow
Below is the latest bouquet from Delycia’s garden. WOW!!