A crackling fire.
A refrigirator full of organic, home made food, lovingly grown by our local farmers.
Loved ones sleeping soundly, warm and snug, some under big blankets, some in woolly onsies.
A beautiful glass of wine.
A beautifully written book with language that brings the soul to life.
The wind outside, rustling through the last leaves hanging on.
They say that in the fall, trees surrender their leaves gracefully for the coming rest and hibernation of winter... but that is not what I see... I see and hear the wind rushing through, howling, I see the wind moving trees side to side rustling the leaves as much as wind can, I see trees whose leaves are hanging on...
What an extrordinary thing it is to bear witness to beauty, to love, to all of life's enormous little moments.
What an extraordinary thing.
There are not enough words of gratitude in language to be able to express the depth of feeling I have for the opportunity to live this life. To see. To learn.
To bear witness.
The expansion of consciousness always involves a death of a part of self that in turn, gives birth to an expanded self. A wider, deeper container. That first death is terrifying. There is no precedent. You go in blind, scared, unsure. Then you do the work and come out on the other side. You meet your expanded, beautiful self. The container is deeper.
Then comes the next death, the next expansion, the next death, the next expansion ... Each one a little less terrifying, a little less fear... a little more trust ...
Each time the container is expanded...
What a marvel. Blessed be.