I’ll admit it. It’s already Tuesday (not even Sunday adjacent). And forgive the title. I once read a Taoist book entitled Each Moment is the Universe, and that sentiment is all that comes to mind when I think of Sunday’s joys.
I try to practice daily mindfulness. Really, I do. Each day begins with such grand intentions. Then somewhere around ten in the morning, the steady drip of tasks to complete begins to feel like a crushing deluge. Each moment must actually expand to encapsulate the universe if I’m to stand a chance at meeting every obligation. Or at least, my thoughts must race fifty paces ahead of this actual moment.
Or so it seems.
But yesterday was one of those blessed days where mindfulness isn’t a skill to be practiced, it’s a state of being. When you clear the calendar and go with the flow, suddenly life just is.
And with the weather we’ve been having, that one day, yesterday, encompassed three seasons. Seemingly, a universe in a day.
In the morning, three generations of Halversons hit the slopes of Wild Mountain.In the afternoon, the snow cover gave way to a puddle-filled water-scape that had us all singing like birds in the sunshine.
And by evening, the flavors of summer came alive on the grill and we could practically taste the camping trips in our future.