There is a little park in the neighborhood where our son goes to school. The school is about 30 minutes away from home. I drive all over the place teaching, and often there is a window, sometimes 20 minutes, sometimes two hours, where it does not make sense for me to drive home, and then drive back to get him. I go to the park. I went today.
I bring my little beach chair, which is always in the car. I sit. Sometimes I close my eyes and meditate. I always have my Kindle. The cat tails sway in the breeze. I pay no heed to the “Beware of Alligators” signs. I just don’t think I’m delicious enough to worry about them. And I’ve never seen one there. Just iguanas. And ducks and pelicans.
There is public restroom at the park, which is vital.
Today I was doing kind of an informal, open-eyed meditation. Just observing my surroundings and I couldn’t help but go into a rampage of appreciation. If you are familiar with the work of Abraham-Hicks, you understand the term. It’s an appreciation binge.
Suddenly, I was so very aware that someone(s) had planned this park. There were likely lots of meetings and red tape. Someone had the idea for it. Others built it. They cleared the space. They planted. They constructed. They mapped it all out and brought it to fruition.
All I had to do was show up.
They brought plumbing in for the bathrooms. They paved the sidewalk and the parking lot. They mow the grass and trim the shrubs. They maintain the dock that I sometimes sit and meditate on.
And don’t even get me started on the natural beauty given freely from the Divine. Every leaf. Every ripple in the lake. Every bird song. The smell of grass and earth and blossoms. The cat tails in all their forms as the seasons change; the sound they make in the breeze. The cloud formations in the sky; a different show, every day. A pelican streaming head-first straight down into the water for his lunch. An iguana basking in the sun. The feel of a cup of warm tea in my hands, and the taste of a chocolate cookie, bought at a nearby bakery.
A quiet moment. A break in the day where I can take it all in.
We are surrounding by blessings.
“If the only prayer you ever say in your entire life is thank you, it will be enough.”