As once the winged energy of delight
carried you over childhood’s dark abysses,
now beyond your own life build the great
arch of unimagined bridges.

Wonders happen if we can succeed
in passing through the harshest danger;
but only in a bright and purely granted
achievement can we realize the wonder.

To work with Things in the indescribable
relationship is not too hard for us;
the pattern grows more intricate and subtle,
and being swept along is not enough.

Take your practiced powers and stretch them out
until they span the chasm between two
contradictions…For the god
wants to know himself in you.

-  Rainer Maria Rilke, Once the Winged Energy of Delight

He’s right, you know.  Being swept along is not enough.

This morning, standing barefoot in between the bean rows as the sun crested the treetops in the valley, I sent you all a wave of love.  Did you feel it?  I wonder.

The forest was sparkling with last night’s rain.  Morning glory chalices were spiraling open.  Bumblebees were busy among the basil and mint, just like always.

The tulip poplar released another yellowed leaf, and it fell in slow motion, caressed by unseen air currents.

The moss was so green it would break your heart.

A blue jay had left behind a single feather in the grass.

The wonder of it all filled my every cell until I was vibrating at a frequency of pure joy.  I was sure for a moment that I was going to float up into the dome of the sky and truly become one with all that is.  But I so loved the sensation of my feet in contact with the moist, red Earth, feeling almost as rooted as the nearby pines, that I couldn’t imagine ever willingly leaving that behind me.

For a fraction of a second, I felt torn between them: firm, holy ground; ethereal, grey sky.  And then I just knew.

I am exactly where I am supposed to be.

I even laughed aloud, startling a nearby song sparrow from her perch in the wild rose hedge.  It just seemed so amusing, all of a sudden, that I could have forgotten for even a moment.  All my worries about the future showed themselves to be as insubstantial as smoke.  The only real thing is saying yes to this life, now.

Yes.

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<a href=”http://www.mylivesignature.com” target=”_blank”><img style=”border: 0 !important; background: transparent;” src=”http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/148/203B3B30907665BC3BAA901E795B4F31.png” alt=”" /></a>

Daisy-like flower, with blue heart.

We are together for a very short time, so it makes sense to live in harmony, in unconditional friendship.

~ Bokar Rinpoche

Please consider this my thank you note to all of you, for reading, and commenting, and sending me messages, and telling me your stories, and writing your beautiful blog posts, and just shining and shining and spreading joy out into the world.

It means so much to me, and I don’t tell you often enough how grateful I am.

I’m still amazed that I get to do this, that we are able to share like this, that we’re so privileged to connect with each other across the miles, every day, whenever we find time.  An ocean might separate us… or only the Georgia/South Carolina border.  Whatever separates us from each other, though, is forgotten in this virtual space, where kindred spirits find no barriers.

And I want to extend a special thank you to one of my readers today.

To Lynn, who has a beautiful, optimistic blog definitely worth your click (hint, hint), and who was my first steady commenter.  Oh, I’d had drop-ins before, but no one stuck around — probably because I hadn’t yet figured out that it would be a good idea to respond to those comments or to go visit commenters’ blogs and try to return the love.  I was a wet-behind-the-ears blogger when Lynn started coming to read what I wrote, and she has been such a sunny and loyal and encouraging presence ever since.  She even networked on my behalf before I’d figured out the rudimentary blog etiquette, bringing me to the attention of another blog friend (Talon) who means so much to me now.  It’s hard to imagine my blogging journey without Lynn’s presence.

So, Lynn, thank you, my friend, and namasté.

To all of you who bring your own special something to the conversation here at the blog, I appreciate every single word.

And to all of you who read and look at the photos and continue to come back for more, thank you for being an important part of my journey here.  I don’t ever forget that you are here, following along with me, and your silent presence is a comfort and an encouragement for me.

Every time I sit down to write, you are all with me.  At least, it feels that way.

Namasté, y’all.

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“A morning glory at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books.”

~Walt Whitman

Grandpa Ott Morning Glory.

You may have guessed by now that I’m a huge Whitman fan.  His words do get featured pretty regularly in the “Quote of the Week” that appears in the sidebar.

But, as much as I adore morning glories (and especially my heirloom Grandpa Ott Morning Glories, which may well have been in existence during Whitman’s lifetime), I’ll have to disagree with the poet on this one.

Of course, it depends on the book, but…

Walt, come on, couldn’t we just have both?

Morning glories clinging to the porch railing.

Sure we could.

In fact, I did it this morning, sitting on the porch steps, alternately engrossed in my beautiful book, and then letting that book slide off into my lap as I got to daydreaming, or watching the bees in the mint patch, or wondering if the next ‘Cherokee Purple’ tomato plans to ripen up anytime soon, or holding my breath and sitting ever so still as the male ruby-throated hummingbird came within eight inches of my face, not certain if I was a huge flower or not — but not willing to pass up a source of nectar this promising without checking it out first.

(Hint:  When you plan to be still in the garden, wear an orange or pink or scarlet shirt.  Sitting in a sunbeam doesn’t hurt your chances for a hummingbird encounter, either.  Sometimes, if you are very fortunate, a butterfly will land on your shoulder, too.)

I guess I’m just that kind of person.  The kind who wants to have her cake and eat it, too.  Shortly after F. and I first met, he accused me of being greedy — but not for money.  The very idea made me laugh — and then laugh some more when I realized how true it was.  I wasn’t used to thinking of the term “greed” apart from the Wall-Street-style connotation, and at first glance it didn’t seem to fit my lifestyle of simple pleasures enjoyed to their fullest.

It is now one of our little jokes, because it’s so true.  Yes, I am greedy for all the joy this world has to offer, whether it’s the sun-drenched or the rain-soaked kind — or any of the million possibilities between them… and the transcendent joy of the shimmering rainbow when they meet.  I am greedy for friendship, for beauty, for laughter, for wonder, for love, for inspiration, for sweetness and spice, for peace, and for connection — with other beings, with Nature, with the Divine.

I’ll take the magic of books, please – and a stained-glass morning glory with a honeybee feasting in its glowing throat.  If it’s not too much to ask.

Wishing you a weekend filled with whatever satisfies you most.

Namasté, y’all.

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