Dear Earth, here’s to enjoying the delightful.

Indigo? Sapphire? Cobalt? I’m searching for the perfect word. The sun hides behind the hills across the valley and the sky becomes saturated: such a rich, deep blue. Spotted with warm yellow lights and framing the pale speckled moon, I could gaze at it for hours.

During one of his Dharma talks this week, my Buddhist teacher encouraged us to both “be with the horrors, and enjoy the delightful.” Today I want to focus on your delights, dear Earth.

What gets between us and this enjoyment? All the protective parts of us that are working hard to keep us safe. To enjoy delights, we need to take off our thick gloves and reach out with our delicate skin. Maybe the last time we reached out for a rose, a thorn drew blood. It may be that we’re reluctant to be seen. Maybe we don’t feel entitled to enjoyment. Maybe we’re too busy chasing success or praise.

You want us to enjoy you, darling Earth. You created the sweet fizzy goo inside passion fruits. You made the soft fur on my little dog’s belly. You host Maidenhair trees and waterfalls and ice topped mountains. You are crammed with delights – snowflakes! peacock feathers! – and you offer them endlessly.

Sometimes I catch a glimpse of my gloves. I realise that I’ve been looking at your beauty through smeared glass. As I see and appreciate this shielding, and reassure it, it relaxes a little. As it relaxes, I feel the silk under my fingertips again, and taste the blue of the evening sky.

My prayer today is: help me to enjoy your delights, dear Earth.

Love, Satya

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Gratitude for the photo by rupixen.com on Unsplash