It was a first-thing-in-the-morning scramble. Kath was heading out to send off some packages; Nicki, our guest from Ottawa, was searching for a water bottle to take with her to yoga. Deb stopped by to pick Nicki up to go to class together. We all stood around the family room chatting for a moment, as Deb squatted down in between our two dogs, Tanny and Belle, gently petting them. Each of them was clearly in bliss, Tanny smiling, Belle lolling onto the floor, her face turned up to Deb with devotion.
Very ordinary stuff. Folks coming together for a moment before the real activities of the day, full of chores and classes and getting things done.
After everyone swooped off, I stood in the kitchen, slicing up an apple to go with my breakfast. I noticed this strange sensation in my chest, this swelling warmth. I felt surprised–after all, all I was doing was making breakfast. Why would I be having a feeling? As I tuned in more, I realized that funny feeling was my heart. I hadn’t been aware of how much love had been floating through that room, criss-crossing back and forth between all of us, magnifying and building as it went from one to the next to the next.
Standing there, biting into the sweetness of the apple, I felt entirely nourished.