Some Days. . .
Some days you work really hard for it. The ceaseless clanging of the ego’s empty gong rises up and drowns out the perfect silence of the heart. You struggle against the clamoring; fight to push it aside – or at least to block it out enough to catch the faintest whispers of Creation.
And then, there are those times when the clouds withdraw. The storm dwindles to no more than a gentle breeze, blowing up momentarily to rattle the dry leaves of memory before moving on without a trace.
The moments of heartfelt beauty, when a love of all that is bursts forth in a boundless river of joy, flooding the arid plain of the Earth, bringing with it nourishing light, and life for another day.
The river carries you through the minutes of the day. The meetings, traffic jams, unfinished projects; all these things no more than driftwood, borne along on the wild current beneath.
You live for these days.
Or perhaps, more appropriately, you live BECAUSE of them. . .