Friday, 10 April 2009

Yet Another Perfect Day

“Yet another f…..g perfect day!” The words come back to me from a film with Sarah Miles called “White Mischief” as I once again indulge myself with an early morning writing meditation to start my day. This time alone, my beloved now working again, I relish the beautiful start to my day, from the email I awoke to bringing news of imminent profitable work to the positive email from a close friend endorsing what I am doing, to the joy of seeing my beloved off to work in good spirits, to the cold I surrendered to that has now gone after only 2 days, to the taste of strawberry jam signalling a return of my sacred sense of taste and, above all, to the joy of early morning sun on the landing outside our apartment. Yes, I feel on top of the world today, succeeding in accepting and, in so doing, being blessed with so many things – all this in the face of illness and injury. Not bad for a once whinging pom!

I am so thrilled with my day and the good news that it brings on so many levels that I can hardly contain myself. Where joy has been missing for the 4 weeks since my accident, it is now present in abundance even though I have not yet recovered. Doing as I am told (for once!) and accepting everything without complaint for days on end has produced what I was told it would: joy in the moment with resultant good fortune.

I see that I have squandered so much precious energy suffering and then moaning about doing so. More importantly, I have deprived myself of much, even more precious, happiness and well-being in the process. No point in lamenting it but let it be a lesson for the future, for every moment that is less than joyful is a waste and one for which I alone am responsible.

This being the case, I close my eyes, feeling the intense heat contrasting with the somewhat cooler breeze, not seeking a particular line of thought and instead just savouring the moment. As my tea is nearly finished, I countenance the continuance of this blissful state in whatever activity I am next drawn to. This daily indulgence of writing out of doors is but part of the joyful experiences on offer and soon must give way to another part. Will it be preparations for our forthcoming move to another room or will it be the review of that helpful email about work in readiness for a full and rewarding reply? I do not know and as my tea is still not quite finished, it does not matter. I do as I feel in the moment and refuse to worry about something in the future, no matter how soon – to do so is just too wasteful of this precious joy!

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