Postcards to the Universe

It's hard to strike the balance between gratitude and wanting. Two friends and I went to this place yesterday, a place I have come to think of as a special portal to another realm, a place where prayers are more easily spoken and heard. Well, I think they're prayers, but we've been calling them postcards to the universe, Ming's term.

Anyway, we each take a turn composing, and mail them out, stamped with love and hope.I tried not to be too needy or greedy with mine. I mean it when I tell you that gratitude is my default position.

On the other hand, when given the opportunity to make wishes, I find myself asking. I asked on behalf of others that there be comfort and resolution to their problems, and I asked on behalf of earth that we find ways to heal it. And then I got to me. It's not so early in my game, but still I yearn, I want, I hope to do better. I want to find my way in certain ways, accomplish this or that.

And I won't go into the details of my particular postcard, but afterwards Dave said, "As for the wanting-for-yourself part, what you don't seem to realize is that you've already done or have everything you just asked for."I contemplated the possibility that this might be true.

There's always such a gap between how we view ourselves and how we are perceived by others, but I allowed myself a moment to feel satisfied, believing my own worthiness and well-being, not comparing myself to anyone else, looking around at this fine here-and-now.

Clouds had gradually drifted in, softening the glare, creating a peaceful, living room kind of light. And there was no wind, just calm, warm air, sweet and gentle, a perfect temperature. How could this not be enough?

I love this place and all such places where wonder and reverence are revived, where laughter and wisdom and story-talk happen. We lingered for a long time and then hiked back, our voices suspended in the air like a brief trail of music.

William Stafford said it better than I could: