Today is full of wonder. I feel like I’m born again in each moment, fumbling about the room with new fingers, feeling everything for the very first time.
When I was fifteen, my family traveled to Paris for a week during the Summer. The three of us stepped off of a tour bus in the Montmartre district, and I remember opening my eyes a second time, it seemed, since my eyes were already open. Like when you go to the eye doctor and they click the little lenses against your eyebrows and ask you, “A, or B?”
“Well B, of course, it’s much better,” you say, and it seems like such a silly, simple change, though you’ve been living with A your entire life.
I unfolded. The dusty lenses that had been hanging over my eyes clicked up, revealing the hill before us, all cobbled streets and bright awnings and pots of flowers and ferns that looked like they had been there for a hundred years. Folks kicked back in chairs along the pathway and sipped tea and ate slowly. I bought a painting of a bike, and my father elbowed me in the ribs and asked, for the fourth time, “Do you see this place?” His wonder matched my own.
It’s much easier for me to lift the little, dusty lenses from over my eyes these days. It doesn’t take a village in Paris or an hour of meditation. Sometimes I simply wake and think, My God! what a beautiful life we have!
I am amazed by the way my eyes are open. The way my breath paints the morning air. I brush soft lips against my husband’s skin as he sleeps and know that every inch of freckle-peppered arm and leg and shoulder is a miracle.
I am marvelous. I am a wonder.
I am neither in my body, nor outside of it, but somewhere in between. When I close my eyes, I’m not far off, making lists and plans and wondering what if, what if, what if. I’m just here. And it feels quite like home.
This is how it should be, I think. This is what it means to be enlightened. I used to image it was something quite grandiose and unattainable - like living every day somewhere beyond your body, halfway between Ether and the Afterlife.
But maybe it’s this. Like opening your eyes and seeing the world – really seeing it! – for the first time. A childlike amazement. An endless wonder.
Cradled in every moment. Every breath.