I seek to practice mindfulness, but it is often a messy process that fills my day with aches, distractions and dull escape.  I am letting go more and more of trying to do what I just simply don’t want to do–with less and less guilt.  Sometimes those actions I do like to do are brushed aside, testing my desire.

Here is a soft center of my day–connecting with the eternal.  It doesn’t even matter if there is no such thing, it is irrelevant.  What is the proof for me is, like yeast, when gently encouraged, the bread of my day rises to easy, flavorful sustenance.  If I start my day remembering that i am truly a mystical swirl of human and spirit, the illusion of stories does not imprison me.

With a touch of gratitude, a sprinkle of perspective from the top of the trees, and a deep rooted recognition of the power of love, my day is a feast.