Flowers in a field of dry straw

Saturday morning I woke up feeling funky. My body ached and the coziness of the comforter was like a warm embrace I wanted to last forever. The combination of brain fog from a nagging virus and learning some upsetting news about my family made me want to curl up in a ball and just let the world go by without me. But duty called.  Slowly I got out of bed, made my Macha and wandered half blindly to the computer to read emails then lie down on the couch in an attempt to re-live the comfort of my bed. But this act of indulgence had a time limit. The cat needed feeding, the dog needed walking and, although it was Saturday, there were chores that needed doing. There was no one but me home that morning to take care of business so I dragged myself off the couch, fed the cat and began the day. I loaded Max into the car and drove downtown to the walking path leading to the town square. Max and I got out of the car and began our morning walk. Sonoma air on an early autumn morning is brisk and damp with mist floating over gold hills, greying the sky and enhancing the earthy smells of ripening grapes, fig trees and sweet loam. Max sniffed. I walked alongside him as he stoped whenever he found a ripe patch of odor beyond my limited human capacity to smell, which turned out to be every few feet. I was hungry. So Max and I stopped at a local cafe and I asked if I could eat outside with my dog. To my amazement they welcomed us on to their patio. I ate an egg, toast and savored some strong coffee. It felt so French.

While walking back from the restaurant, my eyes newly opened by the perfect amount of protein and caffeine, were delighted by the colors and shapes in the field that I was too out of focus to see before.  Periwinkle blue cornflowers clinging to the ground, scattered yellow dandelions and white Queen Anne’s Lace surrounded by the dry amber grasses of late summer and bits of green intrepid volunteer plants. Simple and lovely- nature’s perfect composition. As Max and I continued on, we ran into a fellow path walker and stopped to say hello. He held a small rubber ball that he pressed on as he walked in order to, he said, “get more out of his morning exercise”. After a brief conversation, as we said goodbye, he added as a send off, “have fun, it doesn’t cost anymore.”

When we wake up in the morning we don’t know who we’ll meet, where we’ll end up, or what is in store for us. One never knows where inspiration will come from, what will lift us up out of a funk. But walking with openness in unfamiliar places is a great way to prime the pump. Making even a small change in routine can open the portals to Don’t know mind and the possibility of experiencing delight. And really, since nothing stays the same, each moment and every place is unfamiliar when we’re really present.  These simple adventures of everyday life have no age limit, cost nothing and don’t require good health. Delight and wonder naturally arise when mental chatter is put aside and the moment is met without expectation. No need to go to Disneyland or travel somewhere exotic to discover fun. Like my friend on the path said, fun doesn’t cost anything. I’d add that fun can be found in surprising places.

We all go through our losses, unmet expectations, physical challenges and sorrows. Nestling down under the covers and moaning is an important part of the process. But it is also important not to let troubles drag us around like tin cans tied to our tails. Even in the midst of our sorrow and pain exist worlds full of surprises- periwinkle blue flowers, a wise man popping up out of nowhere telling us to have fun or an unexpected meal in the middle of the trail. I still felt lousy and my extended family situation remained unresolved. But this day also contained a sort of sparkling magic, a great dog who likes to sniff everything, surprise people popping up out of nowhere to dispel wisdom, and flowers in a field of dry straw.