I want every moment to be sacred. I want to be in it. Guzzling it down like warm milk. I want to lose myself to it again and again. Exclaim “how did we get here!?” Revel at the fortune of it.
I want to know, deeply, that every second unfolded in order to bring me here, to this point now. And not understand it, but believe it.
I want the next time I put my feet in grass to feel like the first time. Because I never really sunk into it before. My feet there, yes, but my mind elsewhere.
I want to gaze out to clouds and feel the magnificence of insignificance, a kind reminder that smallness does not mean scarcity.
I want to fall in love with washing dishes, to its quiet mundanity. I want to be utterly present, let the water wash me clean.
I want to gush every time you curl your body into mine. Not for the excitement of newness, but for its vulnerability. The trust it requires.
I want to remember every second of every day that we are connected. We are one. All of us.
I want to live every day in ceremony.
I want to love and love and love some more.
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