Song of Summer

“Your self is sacred; be true to it.” - Paul Brunton (A Message from Arunachala)
 
"There is no right way or wrong way", her teacher said softly, "there is only the way...you have to trust that you are the way". Suddenly, she felt herself expand into the spaciousness of those words. When she awakens each morning thereafter, she takes a deep breath and exhales a long, quiet "thank you", then slowly places her feet on the floor.  "I'm just a soul in a human-suit", she thinks to herself, "no more, no less".  She remembers tripping over tree roots in the moonlight, and the way the rocks wiggled beneath her feet while crossing the stream. And the fireflies in the tall grass, the way they floated there so silent, so full of light.  She counts these things as blessings and keeps a list in her mind.  They are her buoys:

• The patina of her homegrown blueberries 
• Summer peach pizza with balsamic reduction
• Ukeleles
• Swimming pools
• The wings of the Giant Leopard Moth
• Wheels and the wind in our hair