December 1, 2015
(If we live with an open and grateful attitude, every day will bring a gift. This is one of 365 gifts during the year I turned 70.)
Days with no defined lines between sun and shadow, days with no contrast—this is when time slides imperceptibly like raindrops down the window of life. Time glides and slides, one hour into another until I suddenly realize that the day has disappeared and drained all the minutes with it.
This passing is like a cat’s purr, blending into a raindrop’s dampness. There is comfort in knowing that the tides continue to rise and recede, in knowing that one day will follow another. And there is an excitement in questioning, in not knowing, whether tomorrow will be a dark day that slides or a bright one that offers clearly defined lines. It is a comfort in knowing that on some days I can create playful shadows while on other days I can retreat and just be. Like the tides, life has an ebb and flow, a rhythm that continues like the breath which rises and falls.
It is interesting how dreary rainy autumn days make the reds, oranges and yellows appear brighter as if these colors were compelled to poke holes in the damp grayness and give balance. Today raindrops gently kissed the remaining red geraniums in the flower box outside my front door. A few weeks ago, I thought it was the end of their season but today I see they still thrive. Even new buds wait, hoping for a warm greeting soon.
I soak contentedly in time.
My gift today is being.
> Day 358: Passing
You can find links to my other posts on this project here: