Definitely That Kind of Day

 It is certainly that kind of day here in the East Bay. No, the photograph is not of a peony, but rather a blooming tree that I call the sunny side up tree. I love the golden heart in the center: a glimpse of the soul springing from the essence of God's love.  May all humanity know we, too, can shine with this love. We only have to be willing to let ourselves bloom.   

   

Today

If ever there were a spring day so perfect,
So uplifted by a warm intermittent breeze

That it made you want to throw
Open all the windows in the house

And unlatch the door to the canary’s cage,
Indeed, rip the little door from its jamb,

A day when the cool brick paths
And the garden bursting with peonies

Seemed so etched in sunlight
That you felt like taking

A hammer to the glass paperweight
On the living room end table,

Releasing the inhabitants
From their snow-covered cottage

So they could walk out,
Holding hands and squinting

Into this larger dome of blue and white,
Well, today is just that kind of day.

~ Billy Collins

First Sip 

image: San Leandro, on the last day of May, 2022

Just in Time

I do struggle with self-care some. It is not that I do not practice meditation or yoga or walking. Sometimes I forget to do things just because I enjoy them. However, yesterday Tyler and I drove to Inverness to have dinner with friends. I shall remember for quite awhile that bowl of blueberry ice cream topped with a tiny flower. A beautiful outing and a wonderfully peaceful drive home.  On Saturday, we took Jack on a short walk in the East Bay Hills.  I shall try to keep these practices of going out just because. 

   

"Some days it feels like a foreign language
I'm asked to practice, with new words
for happiness, work, and love. I'm still learning
how to say: a cup of tea for no reason,
what to call the extra honey I drizzle in,
how to label the relentless urge to do more
and more as useless. And how to translate
the heart's pounding message when it comes:
enough, enough. This morning, I search for words
to capture the glimmering sun as it lifts
above the mountains, clouds already closing in
as fat droplets of rain darken the deck.
I'm learning to call this stillness self-care too,
just standing here, as goldfinches scatter up
from around the feeder like broken pieces
of bright yellow stained-glass, reassembling
in the sheltering arms of a maple."

~ James Crews

This poem came to me through First Sip. This information was included: 

"This poem can be found in the lovely new poetry anthology The Path to Kindness: Poems of Connection and Joy, edited by James Crews."   

image:  I love James Crews' description of goldfinches. I have no photographs of goldfinches, but this morning's light on the nashtursims was ephemeral and quite beautiful.  I call it May Light.