For months, day after day, it has been nothing but blue skies and sunshine. Just crazypants glory.
For MONTHS. Each day, I would wake up almost stunned, really? Again-- is this even possible?
Can I handle such happiness? Or do I tense up against the easy beauty trying to be ready for it to change?
By doing so, limit how fully I can sink into the amazing boon of these magic days; my problem-seeking mind running to some future day when it will all be gone and making plans to cope with that.
I'm not saying you ever do anything like that . . . and I like to think I no longer live anywhere but in the present moment, but as we are all human, the question does come up.
Are you really here? In THIS moment? Or are you running ahead to something later in the day, or dragging behind to something that happened an hour ago, or yesterday or last year.
I have just poured a second cup of fresh coffee and topped it with a dollop of foamy almond milk and a sprinkle of cinnamon.
The dogs read this as a sign we will soon be heading out for a walk so they begin making the occasional whine - not unlike the dying battery in a smoke detector - to make sure I see how patiently they have been waiting for me and how little time is left in my hourglass.
What they don't know is that I can't leave til the carpenter shows up to put in a handrail on my front porch.
He's supposed to be here at 8am but in the land of carpenters, that could mean 8:30 am - 12 noon - or another day entirely.
Such is the clock on Planet Carpenter.
The truth is, I have been super lucky and SUPER blessed in so many ways over this past year as I made changes and improvements to this house. (This house I bought a year ago this month! Boo-Yah! Happy anniversary to me and my new digs.) And yet, I have been cursed with things that I swear require a licensed exorcist.
Door knobs. Dear god. How can a good functioning door knob that is installed correctly be such the holy grail? I have no answer. And, I also failed mightily on the exterior paint. It's not that I didn't try-- it's just one time I really could have used some consultation. Paint is hard. *sigh*
These are not problems on any level.
And in this moment, I'm drinking my coffee, gazing out at the morning sky which is the color of old cement and looks about as heavy.
Then, a flash of birds cut through - black wings - gone as quickly as they came and the sky looks softer in their wake, a fluffy blanket of mist.
Down at my feet, there is a sigh. I hear a knock at the door. The carpenter is here. This is how my day begins.