I was lucky to have grown up in a ‘giving’ household. Every weekend was marked by a flurry of activities, as my mother worked tirelessly to prepare for the guests who might visit.

We never knew who might drop by, though rest assured, there was always a space left open at the table. Even if only symbolic in nature, this practice of generosity and openess served as the focal point for the home. For me, it served as an essential beginning – a place of rest in an often unforgiving world.

Even today, when I feel myself succumbing to the stress – I take a breath, close my eyes…and rest knowing that this moment is never without compromise.

Try as we might, it’s often difficult to disentangle the role of actor and observer. In a perfect world, our presence would be umarred by inner dialogue – our experiences deepened by the subtle things which stir our soul. In time, we’d learn to place the long breath of gratitude before the bias of ego.

In his poem, The Waking, Theodore Roethke presents an avenue for self-exploration:

“Great Nature has another thing to do
To you and me, so take the lively air,
And, lovely, learn by going where to go

This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.
What falls away is always. And is near.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I learn by going where I have to go.”

To some, the light defines – fixing itself upon the crisp edges and thereby limiting. While, to others, the light enriches – offering new ‘paths’ ripe for discovery.

For me, the light of gratitude has – and shall always be – my greatest teacher.

In peace, sweet friends..

Namaste ❣