There are always flowers for those who want to see them.
The best time of my life (thus far…) was a period in 2006 where I kept a journal for forty days and wrote in the present tense and of the present moment. It was subtitled “40 days of Ordinary Rapture.”
I was ‘stuck’ in the further suburbs of San Jose, CA without a functioning car. Although I had a roof over my head, I was having trouble putting food on the table. I was whining to a local friend, “I am getting tired of tea and toast everyday.”
She put me to a challenge. What if every time I ate a piece of bread to view it with fresh eyes and senses as if, “You have never tasted a morsel of bread before that moment.”
So the journal became a way to record my daily ritual of tea and toast at dawn and tea and toast in the twilight. I was also “playing” with Jesus’ intent of forty days of fasting in the desert, and this sentence: “Man does not eat by bread alone, but by every word from the mouth of God.”
There are no adventures of ice-climbing across New Zealand or marrying a rock star in that journal. Yet I saw magnolia trees in my neighborhood for the first time. Before I just drove by them on the way to something else without a second glance.
The scent of roses blooming was richer, and one day I understood their voice. I strolled to the local park and felt the glee of children at play. As I walked everything shimmered as if in an enchanted fairy tale; and yet, nothing changed externally.
Soon, I could afford more than Earl Gray with bergamot and sourdough. I enjoyed white peaches that dripped with sensuousness from the farmer’s market. I fell in love.
There was none of my typical ennui. A subtle and sublime joy suffused my daily life, just as it was. I suppose one can call it mindfulness, but it was more like Wholeness.
Escrever no presente. Que ideia tão simples 🙂