The here and now

I love sitting at the window that overlooks the lake—day or night. It is a mesmerizing scene. During the mornings the blue haze settles over the hills and valleys and lakes. In the day the panorama takes in all kinds of activity: skiing, camping, enjoyment of less hectic living. At night, the lights are simply beautiful. They flicker, showing that someone is tending the hearth at the houses they represent.

I mostly don't stay at the lake. I spend my working days elsewhere. So, when I am at the lake, I know the time is limited. It becomes my here and now. When I am working, the lake serves as a great memory of tranquility and what is right with the world. It makes me want to have more here and now moments of peace and joy. But I want to exchange that memory for the reality.

I guess all of us have here and now moments that occur infrequently but that keep us going for the long haul. Although it is important to recognize that special, short-lived moments can't constantly be a person's reality, it is more important to have something or someone that provides a spark for the long haul; otherwise, a certain crusty staleness sets in. I'm thankful for the lake and those around me who keep me vibrant, alive, peaceful and joyful during this season when the consummate gift of peace was given 2000 years ago and in every other season of the year.