This Moment

I sip French-pressed coffee with heavy cream, savoring the warmth as it eases down my throat. Pedro nestles in beside me to rest from his morning escapades. Buttercup barks at the door, ready to return from her morning constitutional. I ask Karen to let her in so I can keep writing; keep the pen flowing, the words moving across the page.

This is my day off. I’m happy to sit, read, and journal awhile with no time constraints. I notice the clouds as I stare out the window through the trees. We need the rain and I would welcome it, but I hope to float on the water in the hot sun awhile, watching Heron, Osprey, and King Fisher. Maybe a sailboat feather will drift by and delight me.

Another sip of silky rich coffee. A luxury. What is the real cost of this luxury? I sip slowly as I ponder the question. I don’t want to think these thoughts and add a dark cloud to the already overcast sky. I’d rather sit in ignorance of what my pleasures cost another and simply enjoy my morning.

If I ask the question–how do my choices impact life–there seems to be no end to it. I can’t help but come to the conclusion that my life is connected to all of life. My life always impacts your life, and even those I’ve never met, whether or not I’m aware of the impact. I am not separate. Will this understanding tear me apart? Or is it in not understanding that I’m torn apart…that this world is torn apart?

The simple act of drinking coffee impacts someone, somewhere. I don’t fully understand the impact; how would it change me if I did? Is drinking fair-trade, shade-grown coffee enough?

What is enough?

I’m putting down this pen now.

So, I went to the lake and floated. I saw the Blue Heron, Osprey, Ducks, and Geese. And then the rain came. I floated while the drops fell. I floated until the thunder began.

After the rain I noticed the ground, dark and nourished, smelling of lush richness. I noticed the beautiful jewel gifts dancing on the flower petals. I noticed the cooled and refreshed air. I breathed it all in.