It is the middle of the day here. These photos I am sharing with you were taken this morning on my walk with the dogs. Outside my window the crew of guys that have been gutting and renovating the building next to mine have music playing on the radio, but their raw banter* has quieted.
Maybe due to the fact that they are scraping the paint off the side of the house in full July sun? Perhaps they are contemplating the wisdom of Hafiz? No way for me to know, but I am enjoying the more modulated sound of activity out my open window.
I am loving so much right now it feels like I am living the life of a hedonist on holiday.
It would be easy to rope you into a long discussion of all the aspects of summer that are making my heart sing, but I won't do that to you. Instead, I'll just bullet out the highlights.
Sweet air, sweet breezes, sweet sunshine :: barefoot mornings :: farmer's market peaches, blueberries . . the CORN, the TOMATOES :: sultry mornings :: writing with opera on the Bose :: all windows open, front door wide open :: ballet class at the Y :: morning walks :: late-night strolls down dark, quiet streets ::
sigh, I could go on and on and on and not even scrape the the top. It's just moment to moment goodness. Much of my deep contentment stems from some new practices I've got in place thanks to the work of Byron Katie-- for me, this is truly life-changing stuff. Plus, I am shifting so much about how I approach my day, my life.
This article is utterly brilliant and pretty much sums it all up for me in terms of my attitude and energy : I am not busy. I am the laziest ambitious person I know. Like most writers, I feel like a reprobate who does not deserve to live on any day that I do not write, but I also feel that four or five hours is enough to earn my stay on the planet for one more day. On the best ordinary days of my life, I write in the morning, go for a long bike ride and run errands in the afternoon, and in the evening I see friends, read or watch a movie. This, it seems to me, is a sane and pleasant pace for a day. And if you call me up and ask whether I won’t maybe blow off work and check out the new American Wing at the Met or ogle girls in Central Park or just drink chilled pink minty cocktails all day long, I will say, what time?
Well, except for the ogle girls activity . . just substitute ogle iron men** and it's all good.
There is so much space opening up to what is new, what has never been seen or explored -- tall ships on the horizon.
It feels amazing. And I haven't even shared the art class from last weekend .. . sheesh. Yeah.
It's kind of like that . . .
*how many f-bombs can one person put into a single sentence? You might be surprised to learn the answer to that question . . .
** yes, that was going to be the focus of this post-- but got lost in the weeds and queen anne's lace, alas.