The present moment

A beautiful home with homey warm-colored furniture. Lots of books, a fridge full of food. A cozy peaceful backyard with the view of grass and trees, and the whole nature smiling at the coming of spring--a backyard chosen for a little dog...the little dog who stays over and prefers this place to his own home.

The sound of neighborhood children playing in the afternoon, and even screaming harder for their freedom because it's Friday. I am reborn with their joy with every scream.

A loving father, who buys groceries, cooks the food and cleans the dishes after eating. Even then, he won't rest, he looks for a broken chair to fix, for a bill to pay or for a kind word to say to someone...he never stops. What have I done to deserve him? I must have been good before...at some point, I must have done some good deeds to have him as a father.

A kind-hearted mother who makes me practice infinite patience with her, whose deep blue eyes signify the ocean to me, who wants to be healed, and I have to be patient with myself because I can't do miracles for her---just not yet.

I walk the little dog in the grass area of the backyard, I come in and read a bit. I do the laundry. I search the web. The little dog sleeps on my lap sometimes, at other times he prefers to lay on the carpet where the sun is shining.

I walk the little dog again after he stares at me with big brown loving eyes. This time he just wants to play and he runs away into the branches. I have to be firm with him to make him come back. I come back inside and eat something. I do the dishes. I feed him. I pet him. I read some more. I put the clothes in the dryer.

These days, I just am...

There is whole new world to be created, so much to be produced, so many projects to be done, so many people to see, so many places to go and babies to be born and raised. But I am here, in my homey home, with my loving parents, a little dog and my cozy backyard--I am just here where a writer is being herself: first making love with life then writing about it.