Live Your Mystery

We had a very relaxing afternoon under the shade of a tree at the bay. I had gotton all my chores done and Mike came home early. We packed our current reading material and headed to the waters edge. He's reading a book about Calabria and I am reading a book about communication. I had a moment this afternoon when the cool breezes under this tree felt so comforting just as I read this beautiful passage: "Do your work, I tell myself. And after? Find a patch of lawn and sit down and hug your knees to your chest and let everything you've ever been told and everything you've ever seen mingle together in a show just for you, your own eye popping pageant of existence, your own twelve-thousand line epic poem. The tickle of the grass on your thighs, the sky moving over you, sunless or blue,echoes from a homily or a wedding toast or a letter your grandmother sent. Remember something good, a sunburn you liked the feeling of, a plate of home made pasta. Do your work...then lean back. Rest from the striving to reduce. Like the padre said, life is a mystery to be lived, live your mystery."