07-Sep-2009

Contentment

Cherishing Life's Gifts

Last night as I was dozing off with a book in my hands a deep sense of contentment washed over me. It had been one of those days when the morning haze never lifts and everything is muffled and soft: colors, sounds, movements. I spent most of the day in the house, only getting out to the pet store for dog food and the market for the macaroni and cheese I just had to have for dinner. I didn't do anything special, though everything felt special in some way or another, even paying the bills and watching the basketball game later in the evening. Everything was just as it was supposed to be. I was just as I was supposed to be.

It was sweet to drift off to sleep with those thoughts in my mind. I thanked the comforter on my bed, water glass on the nightstand, the carpet on the floor, pictures of my son and my teacher hanging on the wall. Thanked everything for just being there. To be human in these moments is such a blessing and helps me understand the other side, those dark nights of the soul. Just as there are unseen forces that come into our lives to shake loose what we hold onto and shed light on what we fear, there are soft and tender moments, to which no one else is witness—when life is poetry, not spoken or written, but vibrating in our every cell, molecule and atom.

Hari Bhajan Khalsa
Yogamint Momma, Poet
Author of Life in Two Parts