Saturday, February 6, 2010
Making Your Day Delicious
Inspiration for blogging sometimes comes suddenly, from unexpected places. I walked past the treasure map I finished a few weeks ago, and one of the statements from a magazine that I put on my treasure map says "Make every day delicious." It sounded like a great sentiment at the time, so I included it. A few days ago, though, it really jumped out at me.
It got me thinking about what making a day delicious means exactly, and how to do it. I think the possibilities are endless, but deliciousness is a sensual thing, one of taste and smell, and probably sight and feeling, too. (OK, sound, also; I could make a case for that. My son plays for the San Francisco Symphony Youth Orchestra, so I know the sound of delicious!) Making a day delicious is about engaging our senses to notice all of the things that usually go by unnoticed.
I decided to try this going for a walk, and it was fun! It really made me notice, again, how much of the time I spend in my head. There is so much beauty to be experienced in every simple moment, but I have to be present to have it, instead of off somewhere in my thoughts. What will be the most important thing for me at the end of my days, is that I was present for the moments of my life; that I was, as fully as possible, here. I want to live as much as possible right now, savoring every bit of it, all of the ups and downs and victories and disappointments, because that is what it has meant to be me. Fully engaging our senses is a delicious tool to help us fully experience our being.
I can tell you that on that walk the grass was delicious, the smell of it, the vibrant color, and the way it moved in tufts with the wind. Because I had consciously decided to engage my senses, I noticed the intensity of it more than I usually do; it was like that grass was the only thing in the world for a moment. And the great thing was I didn't need to be up in the high Sierras backpacking or in some other amazingly beautiful place where the beauty hits you over the head like a two-by-four and you can't do anything but notice it. I was right here, in my own neighborhood, and the beauty that struck me was just as awesome as anything I've seen in the mountains. There's beauty like that all around us, in simple things. We just have to chose to notice.
May this tool be a blessing. . .