i have been reading extensively, these days. reading… and walking… and writing (without even feeling like posting because that steals from my time spent truly living) and… just being inside of this life… and how it feels… and what it means for me. my eyes are mirrors... and these mirrors are reflecting what they see… have seen… of words… and truths. words float in my head like clouds in formation. words shoot across immense fields of distance like silver stars in the blackest sky.
how filled with grace this life is!
today. i have a plan.
on this elegant spring morning, i will get dressed.
i will get into my car.
i will drive myself to the counseling center where i’m interning.
oh, to think that in just a few minutes i’ll be driving down the highway to get there… my mug, filled with hot darjeeling tea, sitting in my cup holder… my speakers blaring out my favorite notes from vivaldi… bled from the throat of cecilia bartoli.
my steering wheel will be my compass of purpose… guiding me there.
and once i’m there…
i will collect all of my belongings… including my tea mug rimmed with copper kisses from my lips.
i will step out of my car and into the openness of the day.
as my shoes touch the asphalt, i will start to tell myself how unfortunate it is that i have to be inside on such a burningly beautiful day (because that’s just part of the formula).
but then i will remind myself of how fortunate i am to be in a place where i love to be… doing what i love to do.
i will walk to the building with the sun billowing against my shoulders and a smile spreading my shimmering lips apart.
i will step into the building and feel the familiarity of the place wrap softly around me.
i will walk down the long hall, while admiring the art nouveau pieces hanging on the walls, and into my office.
i will put my keys, my handbag, my tea, on my desk.
i will sit down for five minutes of self-gifted quiet before allowing the madness of the day to sweep in.
my hands will wrap around my mug of warm tea as my eyes drift to the large bay window that looks out into the courtyard.
i will notice the heavy oak trees trembling in the breeze, the spring blossoms swaying in the shadows of newborn shrubs.
i will clutch my mug tighter, and i will lift it to my lips for a sip of warmth.
i will recall my ‘unfortunate vs. fortunate’ debate… and with my spirit wide open… i will smile at my own naïveté.
i will pull out my small notepad,
and… i will write of what