And in the naked light I saw

Ten thousand people maybe more

People talking without speaking

People hearing without listening

People writing songs that voices never share

No one dared

Disturb the sound of silence.

~Simon Garfunkel, “The Sound of Silence”

Get your fingers out. It is 50% gone. What are you going to do with the last half?

With the pandemic, the current and coming fires in California, national and state politics, crime statistics and collapsing buildings, I tend to walk (not run) into each morning’s news and my to-do list. But I must admit – the weather DOES make a difference. Maybe because life IS so complicated, when I find myself in the middle of a beautiful summer day… lately I SEE it.

I notice. I stop. I look. This has been going on for a couple of weeks so I found the School of Life essay below interesting.

Evidently I am not alone.

On Sunshine

Imagine a sunny day, one in which many people, on walking out of the house for the first time, will note a particular brightness to the light, and a balminess to the air, which may trigger a surge of hope and a willingness to look at familiar problems with renewed determination.

The pleasure that can be triggered by good weather is, at one level, absurd. Gratitude for the sun belongs to a category of satisfaction that feels humiliatingly simple. It’s tempting to deny the significance of the weather altogether – especially for philosophers – and to focus instead on more substantial political and economic issues, by which the course of our lives is overwhelmingly determined. We should surely be able to rise above minor frustrations like eleven days of rain and a persistent glacial wind from the north.

But in reality, our behaviour reveals a devotion to a simple, even simplistic, truth: our faith in ourselves and our prospects is frequently determined by nothing grander than the number of photons of light in the sky and degrees of warmth in the air. Heat, pleasant breezes, intense sunlight and fresh flowers may play a critical role in encouraging us not to give up on things.

We in the US are celebrating a new year starting in June! And as Jonathan Fields writes below, may we come into this new time thankful for the invitation…
Big Hug!
Vicki

I Come to This Year

I come to this year
Awakening
To the truth of life
My life
Equipped to see
Beyond the haze
Of illusion
Who I am
Who I am not
Who I yearn to be

I come to this year
Questioning
Whether being that person
Truly holds the seeds
Of more grace
Or serves to distract
From the possibility that
Who I was meant to be
Is who I’ve always been
And that my path is not
To become
But to allow
The me
That has always stood
Off to the side
To take its seat
At the table of my life

I come to this year
Leaning toward a path
Yet mindful that
The Universe
Wise old soul
May have plans
Possibilities unforeseen
That hold within them
The gift of serendipity
Joys undiscoverable
When blinded
By rote.

I come to this year
Accompanied by
The lines of the play
This life has written
Indelibly inked
Acutely human
Unwilling, still
To confine
The story yet to be told
To the breadth and depth
Of the story already lived

I come to this year
With love
In love
Curious
Filled with
Possibility
And hope
Inviting you
To come and play
And live
And be
Lit from within

I come to this year
Thankful
For the invitation, once again
To come to this year.

Won’t you come too?