In Texas, the summers are formidable…however the winters contain all four seasons that dance around each other. Today is what most would think of as an April moment.
It is 7:40 am. If the sun is up, one wouldn’t know. It is 68 degrees and raining.
My apartment has an office nook. These days, my desk is a beautiful dining table of old. In fact, this piece has had more lives than I know about. When I acquired it (back in San Diego), it was clear that the top was older than the support. New legs must have been added at some point and the top was possibly repaired and restored. I love this table…more as a desk than even as a dining table. I am happy that I was able to fit it into my one bedroom apartment.
From here, if I turn right, I look through my balcony and can see two tall palm trees and the lake behind them. On this rainy morning, the other side of the lake (really a river) is a blur.
I have my door open. There is a slight coolness flowing in. Cali, my cat, has been in and out all morning. I think she is happy to have the choice without having to ask me to open the door.
The sound of the rain brings me back to those times when I visited tropical places like Hawaii, South Florida, or Brazil. You can hear the temperature in the sound of the rain.
When I first sat to write, the rain reminded me of an April shower, but it is raining harder, and fuller now…reminding me more of places than times.
Yesterday was a day that surprised me. I thought I had a plan, but by mid morning, a whole new set made itself known. My alignment was good to begin with, so it was easy to roll with it. I think the new plans were quite a bit more fun than the original.
On days like today (moments like this morning), I feel content. Nothing has to be done right now. Nothing needs my attention. Work in the past is complete; work in the future is not ready to begin.
Everything, the way it is, is just fine. Life is changing, and that’s fine too. There is plenty of time to line up with it. There are changes I desire, but I don’t need them to happen right now. There are changes I am iffy about, but they are looming in the future and I’m sure I can find a way to make them work for me. There is always something better.
In my journaling, I was reminded to “be like the water in the river.” The water goes with the flow. It doesn’t fret the limitations created by the banks. It doesn’t push the water in front of it. It doesn’t resist the water behind it. It simply goes with the current. The majority of the water in the river will reach the gulf…and possibly the ocean, which is practically limitless. Some of it will evaporate into the air, which gives it even more freedom. Still other bits will get processed into drinking water or feed fields of vegetation, a purposeful existence for sure.
Right now, I am able to be like the water flowing past my apartment. I might not yet know where I’ll end up, but I needn’t worry about it either. There is an ocean of experience out there I would like to reach, but I’m in no hurry. The view from here is quite amazing.
Recently, I’ve been happening upon articles of clever inventions and ingenuity: creating a better version of something old, or a better use for something others are throwing away. I see so much potential for life to be even better than it is.
Furthermore, I see what is here now. I see previously created improvements everywhere. The more I acknowledge and appreciate, the more I keep seeing. Not all the inconveniences of life have been solved, but so many have.
The rain is tapering off now, as if in sync with this post. The appreciation remains, only the words ebb.
When you stumble into a moment of appreciation, let it in just a bit deeper than you did the day before. Take a deep breath and taste the air. Sip your beverage and feel the liquid float over your tongue. Right now, right here, it is okay…it is good…and it will continue to be, if you let it.