This Moment

In the morning, I step outside, feeling the sun on my face and the dew from the grass beneath my bare feet.

I sit down, feel the weight of my body in the chair, and begin to breathe.

As I breathe, the sunshine feels warmer on my face than before.

The birds’ songs sound sweeter, like nature’s overture to a new day.

I feel my lungs expanding with each deep breath, the crisp morning air filling them, breathing new life into my body.

I fall into a gentle rhythm and just sit there for a while.

No rush to go anywhere.

No pressure to do anything.

No impetus to be anyone.

No – just being.

Here, and now.

It’s all I need – all I am, was, and ever will be.

This moment, this breath, this beat of my heart.

And in that moment, as I slowly open my eyes, the world looks brighter.

Its colors are richer: hues of blue, yellow, and white paint the sky. Shades of green burst from the grass and trees, accented by translucent drops of dew.

Sensations feel more intense: The weight of my body in the chair. The gritty concrete of the porch beneath my feet. The relaxed, renewed energy flowing through my body.

As I gaze out towards the horizon, I take another deep breath.

Now, grounded and present, I knew that breath wasn’t ordinary.

No.

It contained the universe.

Everything in my life has led me to that moment, to take that breath.

Knowing this, I stood up slowly, and stepped quietly back inside.