I feel my way through Wednesday. At times reading on the front porch of the rear cottage while at others sitting on the back porch of the main house watching the birds bathe in the fountain. I take naps when I am sleepy, prepare food when I am hungry. Here it is easy to savor the presence of each moment.
No schedule, no deadlines to be met. I never even open the front door today. I am fully, completely here. NOW.
When the darkness comes I greet it as a familiar lover. I am, once again, waiting it's arrival center stage.
First, the lights to the left blink on.
Then to the right.
It comes to me slow and easy, moving toward me on the brick path. I close my eyes and breathe in it's arrival. I feel the coolness of it's air touch my fingers and gradually move up my arms to my neck and face. I can hear the fountain as our witness.
I walk inside and light candles for it. Place a slow song in the player. I glide my hand over the smooth counter top at the bar. Pour me a drink. Stir. The wood floors gently touch my feet as I walk over to the tassel.
Here, now is intimacy. Truly, I think, my first taste of it. Never have I known intimacy with a lover, with a friend, with even myself. Until now. Now I am intimate with everything.
And gratitude doesn't even begin to describe it.