a choice in the garden of now

8/18/24

The sunline creeps towards my morning chair

and here I am longing to release this tension in my body 
by staring at ripples throwing sunlight

I'm cautiously grateful 
and believe time is short
because I was late 

Late to meditation because I slept because I 
rested because of this tension in my body 

And so I am 
a piece in a sundial landscape hoping to tend this pool from the precarious comfort of the shrinking shade 
as an act of spiritual practice 
to still enjoy these few moments of coolness before that line of 97° heat hits 
my chair and changes everything


In a ripe moment I spring forward, run to turn the cogs on the pump, attach the pieces, plunge them into the water and suck the life-giving bacteria - which I have killed - out of the pool so that it can remain 
stunning and clear

Just one clear thing in our lives, please

I didn't ask for pools to operate this way, but I choose to participate 
despite my vision of a rewilded pond

How can I learn anything about God or Love or Spirit in this setting? The shame would love know

This setting. This imperfect setting. This secret garden surrounding this timepiece of roofline and concrete. This tense muscle body and this human-made lagoon

And yet it is clear 

Anything I can learn about Love I can learn about Love here. 

Anything I can learn about God I could learn about God from one piece of gravel at the bottom of this pool if I choose to be present.

And there She Is... Spirit.

What a gift to have a choice.

Image: Sunlit ripples on my pool water. Colors: blue and white. Photo by Frances