There is a woman running up and down the steps,
iPod (and, I assume, thoughts) separating her from the world.
There are new friends laughing at shared stories of life, home.
And old friends playing cards.
There are frogs singing their songs
And crickets echoing back,
Each happy to just be.
(Oh, what we could learn from nature.)
There are sticky-fingered children blasting air hockey pucks
Back and forth and back and forth.
There are workers – tired from a long day –
Sharing pleasantries as they begin heading home.
There is a young mother cradling, rocking her babe.
And her husband gazing at them,
Obviously smitten with them both.
All this around me.
All this so simple, so happy.
I sit on a big porch scattered with rocking chairs,
Watching the heavy clouds glide past the moon.
Away from the mundane,
Taking a step back to re-connect with me.
And become who I know I can be, am made to be.
“I am happy,” I proclaim aloud.
(More to myself than to any one else.)
And as I sit and with happiness gently on my shoulders like a soft knitted shawl,
My mind drifts towards home.
A place from which I so desperately craved an ounce of respite.
But still…I miss it.
And I realize that even there,
Even when I’m having a bad day,
Even when I feel like I just.can’t.do.it.
I am happy.
(It’s just a different kind of happy than I thought it would be.)
Thanks to One2One Network, I am currently at Ridgecrest Conference Center for Becoming ’11.
Tonight was movie night and although I didn’t stay to watch the whole thing, one phrase really stuck with me:
There are different kinds of happy.