Everyday Magic

I went to my friend's office today for a colon hydrotherapy session. If you're ever in the Phoenix/Tempe area of Arizona, I highly recommend her as a colon hydrotherapist and a massage therapist. I'm getting a massage from her this weekend, and really looking forward to it!

While I waited for her to complete a massage, I wrote the following in my journal:

Thursday already. Feels good to sit still, to rest. I'm starting to anticipate my further adventures, and am also content to wait, to take each moment for exactly what it is -- no more, no less. How precious to be alive, to feel breath move into and out of my body in its own way and time. I can hold my breath if I wish, yet truly I can only control it for a short time.

Breathing is such a magical part of being alive. To sit in this chair in this waiting room at this moment, watching wind waft through the green and gold fronds of a bush outside the window -- all these are also magical.

The wild, new energy of tiny two-year-old Faith, one being with whom I share this waiting room, is magical, as is her beauty. The energy of her doting Father as they play together, swapping silly sounds, investigating the vertical glass wall waterfall fountain, looking up at themselves reflected in the ceiling mirror tiles -- this is also magical, as love so often is. Yet it is also life, aliveness in a raw and pure form.

The water splashes, Faith laughs, her father whispers in her ear, speaking the fairy tale of the wolf and the three little pigs. Momma returns from her massage and Faith erupts in a joyful shout. The family departs, stepping from the coolness of the waiting room into Arizona August heat.

The greatest likelihood is I will never see any of them again in my lifetime. Yet they have touched my life, if only for a few minutes -- a bare finger's width of time. I am made more joyful for it, and thank them with all my heart. How sweet to feel, to be embodied. I want to shout my gratitude to the blazing blue Arizona sky:

Thank you for the consciousness I bring to all I experience, for the skill to set it down in words and so remember. May I read and relive each moment I write, again and again, until I lay my pen down for the last time, releasing one final, magical breath. And may "Thank you" tremble ever upon my lips.

Thanks for reading, and may you find magic in each day of your life.