(Photo Credit: tumblr)
I sat out on the front porch in the dark. And there were so many wonderful things. The soft pitter patter of the rain singing on the leaves. The gleam and click of my knitting needles in the muted lamplight from the windows. The glimmer and satiny softness of my yarn. The comfortable grey and cream in the pattern of my Mayan blanket. The citrusy smell of my tea brewing. The streaks of lightning that in an instant give birth to a dozen branches and is gone. The eventual punctuation of the gently rumbling thunder. The soft fresh smell of rain soaking into the ground. The clinking of Toto’s tag. The solid wood of the bench upon which I am seated. The yelping of coyotes (they might be dogs, but I’d like to think they’re coyotes) in the distance. The green flashing of the alien scouts, or fireflies, depending on your classification. The soft furriness of Toto on my lap. The thunderous roar of the train and metallic rasp of the rails and wheels interacting into a glorious cacophony of industry. The reflection of a day well spent in both labor and doing nothing at all. The memories of beautiful things seen, tasted, and learned. The watery shloosh of passing traffic on the pavement.
These are the best things tonight. And they are here. In my grasp. The here and now is nearly unbearably beautiful. So why would I spend it fearing the future or bemoaning the past? Yes, there is pain. But there is so much joy! There are regrets, but those are to be learned from, not dwelt upon. The future is uncertain, but could be so bright! But most of all, the now is what I have and I can either relish it or throw it away. It’s my decision. Tonight, I choose to take it and appreciate the beauty. But what about tomorrow?