The Good Life 7.3.2013

the good life is about being grateful

  being present in the little things

remembering to breathe

seeing joy

it's firework season. explosions and fire usually drive me inside, 
along with the dog.
to temper the anxiety-ridden explosions, i'm listening to soul-fueling music.
and writing. and dreaming. and believing that i have it good. 
really, really good.



 'with grace in your heart and flowers in your hair'
we just returned from a week at the beach. 
a week of sun. 
a week of us.
a week of raw foods for dinner.
a week of peeling skin,
and dreams thought up on the beach.
six days of holes.
six days of running across hot sand, 
while precariously holding beach chairs, an umbrella, towels, shovels, 
and the child too tired to make it home, across that hot sand.
a week of using our stomachs, and the sun, as indication of hunger, and time.
a week together. 
a week apart.
a week of exploration.
a week to watch these children fall in love,
as i did so many years ago, 
and again during this week away.
away, yet deeply connected. 
connected to the smallness of life.
the largeness of nature.
the pattern of the waves.
the pull of the moon.
the beating of their graceful hearts.
 and the flowers in their hair.

 

 'lend me your eyes I can change what you see'

perspective.

it's a valuable thing.

perspective and trust,

now THAT'S a powerful partnership.

belief that i can have a life of joy, 

and time, and peace, and goodness.

a life seen not through rose-colored glasses,

but through a quiet mind,

a connected heart,

and a centered soul.

we can have it all,

even in the mess.

it's before us to hold.

we just have to see it.

and believe it.

  

'have no fear for giving in, have no fear for giving over'

 i can't help but go breathless at the sunrise.

i used to yearn for the sun to rise.

after a long night of nursing,

or teething,

or eczema,

or night-terrors,

or the standard host of needs in the night,

of my little people.

vacation allows for rest, 

even for the grown-ups.

i only woke for one sunrise during the vacation.

part of me was disappointed.

i crave a beach sunrise.

but in the end, 

i gave in to rest.

i gave over to indulgence.

this rise was offered on our last day. 

i was feeling well-rested by then,

and enjoyed indulging in its beauty,

its peace,its patience,

its slow, yet deliberate, pace.

the generosity of the sunrise,

always returning,

morning to morning,

in its splendor.

giving...to those who take the time to receive.

 'for it's only one life that we've got, and ain't it enough'

this is what i love about life.

the daily reminders that this is it.

the passing of hours,

the flipping of calendars,

the inches of our children, marking up the wall.

we do not get these days back.

it's today. this hour. this minute. this breath.

fill it will intention.

embrace it with abandon.

love it with fierce.

trust in it with wholeness.

and live it with spirit.

it's only one life that we've got.

it's a good life in all the middle moments...

between the sand in your underwear and those tender, sun-burned spots.

between the overnight hauls down the interstate, and

the stale coffee from the truck-stop.

the good life lives in those moments in-between -

'we're here! we made it to the beach!'

and

'oh my word, mommy. THAT is the most beautiful sight i've ever seen.'

it's a good life.