At Camp Takodah, campers offer up a prayer at breakfast every morning, each one opening his or her heart to keep me ready to help others at some cost to myself and send me chances to do a little good each day.
I wake at Lyme Camp with that prayer in my heart, not knowing how I will be of service but trusting that I will, living in mystery rather than mastery. I set practical intentions to have at the ready should the clouds of overarching unpredictability part to let space open up for them, and then I surrender to the moment-to-moment flow, wholeheartedly doing what life asks of me.
Gratitude/simple pleasures:
• deep blue fathomless skies, bright sunshine, and just barely enough warmth for just barely enough time in just barely a big enough patch of light to meditate in the shelter offered by the back deck this afternoon;
• readiness to grab the chance to put paint and pencil on paper again today; and
• Meg's eyes, clear and luminous as she sat in a patch of early morning indoor sunshine chatting with me.
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| Send Me Chances playing with acrylic and pencils on a book page abstract 2020 |
