Today's focus: gratitude gratitude gratitude. I write on my porch and see so many blessings, but in the "I see many" it is a pureed soup, so instead, I will scoop blessings out, one by one, and revel in their specificities.
I see Samuel, my blessing, who is humming an unrecognizeable tune and I daren't ask him what it is. His thoughts make him smile which make me smile. Constance the Cat, my blessing, sits cuddled next to him. Constance is a cast off cat we have adopted and she and her rogue husband, Bob, reign over our yard, King and Queen. Samuel says, "Hi, Bob!" The scarred black tom cat is getting less and less frightened of us. This makes me smile. It is like blessing perfume, perfect in this morning.
I see a pumpkin, my blessing, the first of the season, sitting on the corner of my desk atop a Thomas Merton book, Echoing Silence. The pumpkin was named John by Emma, Samuel and me. Ostensibly he is named after Henry David Thoreau's brother John, fellow teacher and pencil-maker, but I know the truth. :-) I've started a play for Project Love about heaven and my brother John. This paragraph is like a trifecta or hat trick of blessings.
I see my weathered porch desk - another blessing - which needs replacement. By winter, three months from now, I should replace it. It has served me well. Many words have been written here. It has repaid its $10 ticket price many times over.
Samuel exclaims, "It's that same jeep again!" I look up, "Really?" He notices everything (another blessing) "What?" he says to Constance-the-Cat. "You want me to comfort you?" He reaches down, to cuddle with her.
I cry just a little. (A blessing). He has come so far. (a blessing!)
I take a sip of my coffee. A blessing that appears regularly on my gratitude lists. My morning compadre, simple pleasure, eye opener, subject of many love poems.
I see the blessing of my notes for today's And Now You Write. I read the words, "Writing is effortless when we are alive to the world." When we are alive to the world. I am blessed by words, my own and others, of notes and affirmations and blog posts and new voices. Returning voices. Multigenerations. A primary component of creativity camp is being manifested right here.
The chimes ring from inside. Hank (a blessing) must have sidled past them too closely. Samuel goes to his waiting spot after the "imposter bus" drives by. He cranes his neck and says, "I see my bus."
He's gone from cranky to contend in our first hour of the day together. I wave to his friends (blessing!) as the bus pulls away.
Morning by morning new mercies I see...