Someday, when I look back, I will probably think of this last week or so as a still point. After the almost unbelievable highs and lows of the last nineteen years, and the inner turmoil of last winter, this may be the first time I have truly been able to take a deep breath and be in the moment. Last weekend's morning on the beach may have been more visually dramatic, but yesterday I experienced an hour or two of the deepest calm and inner happiness that I can remember. It wasn't "about" anything specific. I don't know how to explain it, except to say that it was a deepening feeling of being in the present, feeling the ground underfoot, walking a little dog, smelling the late summer flowers, seeing hummingbirds, and, at 62, realizing that perhaps if this isn't all that matters, an inner place like this must be the building block for all that matters. Without this solid, peaceful energy within, life careens really up and down, like a ride at the state fair. I wouldn't trade these last two decades for anything, but now I wouldn't trade a sense of calm for anything either. Whatever comes in the future, I hope it will grow out of that calm. (I experienced a little inner pushback, but not too much.)
This Midwest summer has not been the kind of cool, unsettled one I remember from the 90's. It, too, has been a still point, hot, quiet and very dry. The sun continues to be like a Necco wafer in the sky, light orange or pink from the fires further west. I'm trying to remind myself that within a matter of months, this will be the coldest place in the country, but for now, just soak it in, soak it in.
