I am sitting alone at the breakfast table, but I don’t mind. The other women here are lost
in conversations with each other – intelligent or shallow conversations, it
does not matter – but I am free to notice and savour the smoothness of the
yoghurt, the crispness of the apple and the texture of the watermelon. I can enjoy the warmth of the teacup in my
hand and feel the steam kiss my nose playfully when I take a sip of tea. I can breathe in the smell of the thatched
roof – breathe it in deeply – and be overcome by its aroma. It is beautiful.
I am not
distracted by conversation, do not need to put my best self forward, and I
shall try not to pay attention to the kilojoules I am ingesting. I don’t want
to miss this opportunity to connect with God – to hear His voice above the
cacophony of all other voices that beg for my attention and allegiance. I
desire that everything today would enhance this communion with God. Oh, that
today would be a beautiful dance between lovers where time stands still and all
but the presence of my Lover melts away!
The other women glance over at my table and whisper among
themselves. They pity me, perhaps, for being alone, but I am not alone. I am most definitely not alone. I am caught
up in a sensual symphony – colour, taste, aroma and the music of nature are
draped over my shoulders by the Lover of my soul. The hairs on my arm stand on end and tingle
at this blanketing touch of the Divine and I am captivated. I am here. I am
aware. I am.
1 comment:
Oh, Annie. I love the way you write. And I want what you're describing SO bad.
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