Here… Now…

I wonder… all the paths I didn’t take… and the ones that I did… they brought me here, to this morning with my patio door open, in a room filled with sounds of birds, some serene, others dominant and urgent, my son eating his cereal, my hands moving on the keyboard. 

I wonder… what does it all mean? Me sitting here. Me writing these words. And the breath that never leaves me…

Am I here as a result of my past? Or am I here, because here was always waiting for me? Oh the sound of that makes me feel so special. Here, I feel nurtured, loved by the fresh, cool air that enters, the sounds of the birds and the slow humming of the fridge, but mostly it is the sun rays dancing on the curtain that sparkles everything else including my insides. 

I remember there are a million things that need doing; simple chores need to get done, this house, and the backyard need caring, books need reading, my body needs tending, and the streets need my feet’s hitting. Yet here I sit, fulfilling only these words’ need to be actualized and keeping the chair occupied.

I wonder once more, what does it all mean?

The quiet is sweet and expansive even though it is filled with background sounds. And I’m always drawn to this quiet, to not doing but fading into it all. When I’m awake that is; when I’m not drowning in a past or a future or the imagined horrors of the world which seem to be most compelling pushers of doing. I’m here now, and I understand that if I hadn’t done anything else in life this would be enough.

Do you realize that everything blends one into another; love, hate, joy, suffering, sounds, rain, sun… Nothing exist in our world without the other and if they did they would be something else altogether. And if you are reading these words you are in this post too, interpreting, constructing.

And where does that leave us? 

Here. Always. Here. And now…