Sometimes I get carried away by what is next.
Where will my foot fall? What is possible? What is new? What am I missing?
And I miss out on the equity of what has passed.
Where did I learn that? How do I know the blue of Santorini, the gate of a full lion, the taste of a perfectly ripe late summer tomato. How bright stars are when it is truly dark out. The sound of a slumbering dogs' breath while dreaming. How the light changes paint colors at 10 am. Why do I always think of London when I smell diesel fuel and Rome when I smell verbena perfume?
I need to put more time aside to wrap myself in the warm blanket of how rich I already am as a spirit. To be grateful for all of it.