As I walked onto my front porch first thing in the morning, I felt the cool autumn air on my skin, a slight breeze tickling the air on my forearms. The sky was clear and blue, and I could hear squirrels scampering among the trees in my front yard. As I breathed in the morning air, I caught the faint sweet scent of the tea olives that line my yard. Looking closely, I could see their tiny cream-colored blossoms nestled among the leaves. The taste of my morning coffee lingered in my mouth, and I would have liked to have been able to taste the early autumn air.
I was aware of the world around me, using the gift of my body. My five senses were exquisitely tuned into my surroundings. I felt alive to the world.
Heading out for a walk/run, I began to sense my left knee. It’s been a little wonky for the past five years. Nothing bad, just a little bigger than the right, and I can feel it from time to time. I knew that if I just kept jogging, it would calm down and I wouldn’t feel it anymore.
As I jogged, my eyes watched for irregularities in the sidewalk, and my stride adjusted for each crack and hole and root. When my heart rate peaked and my breathing became labored, I slowed my pace and walked.
I was aware of the world of my body. What an amazing physical machine!
I remembered Harvey’s beautiful lean body and how effortless his running stride had been. I began to miss him again, for the umpteenth time, but smiled at these memories without crying.
Later, I spent two wonderful hours alone with my new grandchild. I was overcome with love. What joy it is to watch a baby learn and grow into themselves!
My heart expanded as awareness of my singular, small world grew.
As I prepared for bed, the radio tuned to the news, as is my habit, (maybe not the best bedtime habit to have) I heard of Haitians on our borders, social media negligence, and a new death toll for COVID.
My heart and my head were in tune with and were aware of the larger world.
And once in bed, I fluffed my pillow and turned it over to its cooler side. I fluffed my second pillow, hugged it close to my chest, and sank into my comfortable position. I breathed in the smell of my freshly washed sheets. The soft night sky filtered through the window, dampening the shadows in my room. The low hum of insects serenaded me to sleep.
I was aware of the small world of my bedroom, using the gift of my body.
It was a good day.
2 Responses
To have this awareness is a blessing! Thinking I might share maybe something similar as conversation with my sweet Auntie that I am caregiving for! Thinking maybe this could encourage her for us to make a setting in her home to find peaceful enjoyment with some close by items that she dearly loves. As she is blind and does not mobile so much anymore! Loved you beautiful self feelings !
Oh, I love that idea! Let me know how it goes.