I'm so glad for daily practice. No matter how overwhelming any day gets, I always get to come back, reset, and return to that little sacred microsecond of bliss that lives between silence and breath. The altar then becomes a living being, held up by my determination to be present with my Holy Nature, even when only for a moment. The mat becomes the throne, held up by my sovereignty. The darkened temple room becomes a chamber, dreaming enchantments while wide awake.
Getting there is the hard part. The commute stalls, groceries await purchase, emails sit unanswered. There are always a million other things we could be doing, "should" be doing. No one is perfect here. I'm certainly not. But every day we get that chance to recommit to ourselves and to our Work in the would. To check our place in it. Are you right where you'd like to be today?
The fountain spills her life-giving waters unceasingly with or without us. The pool fills waiting for bare feet to disrupt it's surface. The cup is held in one hand. Then another. Some days we dare to fill it up, drinking deep as it spills across our heavy cheeks. Some days it's just a sip.
Isn't it amazing that we have that fountain.