The Direction of Intention

Since rarely in life have we had excess, we’ve become experts of austerity and yet we seldom feel wanton or that we are lacking in any way. Quite the opposite! We usually walk in rich abundance – the kind that is not connected to possession or attainment or access. We appreciate to our core the gift of being alive, our time together, the plenty that comes from our friendships, the affluence of our artistry. There is no end to the ideas we chase or the moments we cherish. For us, each walk on the trail is extraordinary. We never take it for granted.

The gift of our strict no-spending orientation is that, when we do afford ourselves a treat, the pleasure is amplified; a tiny moment elevated to the exceptional. For instance, yesterday while shopping for gifts we did something that we rarely allow ourselves to do: we stopped at a bakery, bought a pastry and a cup of coffee. We were giddy with excitement. We savored every bite. We cherished sitting in the warm cafe on a cold wet day and sipping a hot, bold cup of coffee. A seasonal sensual pleasure. We promised each other that someday we would do it again.

Our real riches are in our eyes, our seeing. Kerri’s eyes see beauty in everything. At the first dusting of snow she dashed outside to capture the textures and color on the deck. “Lookit!” she said, showing me her discovery, nose red from the cold.

My eyes see movement and connectivity. Busy streets often appear to me as a dance. In a past life I adored teaching because I could see ideas ripple and discoveries flow through the class. I adored watching audiences join in what I came to understand as a single heart beat. Perhaps that was what called me to the theatre. I am only now beginning to understand what calls me to paint.

We moved our old wooden glider, deck furniture, into our living room. A well-used, very old studio lamp, a treasure found at an antique sale for five dollars, serves as a reading lamp. Next to the glider is a tall branch, painted white, wrapped in happy lights and adorned with holiday crystals. It’s become a favorite place to sit. Our happy hour has migrated from the kitchen table to the living room glider where we can appreciate our holiday decorations and watch the world pass by outside the front window.

‘I love it here,” she says, giving Dogga a nibble of cracker. Me, too. I love it here.

***

After writing my post, while waiting for Kerri to finish hers, I opened my email and read the latest of Maria Popova’s The Marginalian:

“The destination, rather than a place, is a state of being — the recompense of paying everything in our path the gratitude and reverence it is due for merely existing. For we forget, too, that dignity — this deepest reverence for being — is not something we can ever have for ourselves unless we accord it to everything and everyone else.”

read Kerri’s blogpost about APPRECIATION

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