Precious

What do you hold precious? Is it the laughter from your 4 year old? Is it the warmth of your partner under the sheets? Is it the smiling bark or the purr or the flutter of wings when you walk through the door? I certainly hope it is not your boat. Or your sizable bank account. Or your professional title. Or your Manolo Blahniks. Please tell me it isn't your over-sized, flat screen TV. Because if it is, you've missed the point. Of life.

In a world economy tilting on its axis, in times of illness and uncertainty, shiny, distracting things lose their luster. What we may have defined as precious a few months ago is gathering a film of tarnish. Things are revealing themselves for what they are... just things. The category labeled "precious" by our minds shrinks. The category of the same name found in our hearts expands.

Right now, in the only "now" there is or ever was, my list of what I hold precious is simple, but not short. Mostly, it includes aspects of the living and breathing. Like the sound of his voice. Like the tears of my Mom over the phone. Like the sweet and supportive gestures of my friends Lynn and Don and Sue and Janet. Like the happy sack of cat slung over my shoulder while typing. Like chocolate, like tea, like hot mushroom soup.

What is precious? The little details of relationships. Snippets of time where love is given and received. Full mind-body immersion in activities that speak to our soul. Every aspect of nature. Fresh water. Clean air. Forgiveness. And faith.