The muffled voice of my mom and dad in the yard. Close but distant echo of their voices. A perfectly shaped tunnel of trees covering a road I frequent to and from the barn. The small, white butterfly that flits so gracefully around the paddock ground. The sound of the chimes blowing in the wind. The rustling sound of the poplar leaves. The grave marker and the flowers that mark the memory of her life’s passing. The bending of the plants arms reaching towards the sunlight, with each move of the plant, it’s branches shift again to the light of day. The look of his eye, each wrinkle, each movement expresses an unspoken communication between the two of us. Truly hearing the story of another, as they tell it with such joy. Hugging your mother as if it was the last time. Watching the quiet breathing of my cat as she sleeps in undisturbed comfort and peace. The warm feeling of coming home after a long week.
Living present in the moments of an ordinary day in the life of an ordinary person. It is not how much you have, or the number in your bank account, nor the influential friends or how many friends you may have. Not how many books you wrote, or how long you have been married that count. For so few of us are so gifted to live the life of our dreams, or excel beyond mediocracy. So many of us seek that life of purpose, only to find we get lost in life’s shuffle.
It is the moments of your life that offer a profound awareness of being present. For it is the cultivation of those moments that make an ordinary life extraordinary!
By Diana Wanamaker
Copyright August 3, 2106
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