The everything-ness of One moment...

The morning is sunny. With a laundry bag in each hand and still here at the chalet in semi-isolation, I head down the hill to my daughter's house to use her washing machine. Starting across the lawn, I turn to glance at the bay. The beauty of it stops me. The sun is brilliant, the Atlantic is endless, islands sprinkle its edges and the sailboats lean in the distance. Yes, here is the "eye kissing light, the heart sweetening light,  my darling..." in ocean-blues and island-greens with the distant horizon disappearing somewhere out there -- somewhat like myself as I am beginning to see/feel as if from another place, in another space, yet all so very right. This I have not experienced before.

I want nothing more. Suspended out of this life, yet totally in and through it. Amazing, this is the one-ness that I always think I understand but not like this. This is something else -- inside and out, around and under. There is no time here, no past, no future, no death, and there is no me.

Ah, so this is it, there is only One moment, this moment -- holding everything -- all of heaven and earth. This is what the ancients know, the mountain monks, the yoga's, the enlightened ones of history who went before us, created morphic fields so we could follow. Everything, all I could want to be, and could never guess -- I am standing in it, right here, right now. A nothingness which is an everything-ness. What words? Really there aren't any. I, like the words, can only point...

And if I hadn't set my laundry bags down and stopped to look at the bay I'd have possibly missed the most important moment of my life? Wait, but how can I write that when I think of all the trillion moments I have lived? Yet, not like this one. Breathing in, I feel Tagore's great lines from the Gitanjali again, "Ah, the light dances, my darling, at the center of my life, the light strikes, my darling, the chords of my love; the skies open, the winds run wild and laughter passes over the earth."

Post Script:

I expect the experience to fade. Yet, a wise woman tells me, "bring it back and live in it. Then it will expand like a rainbow into prism colors."

Four days later, my granddaughter has a birthday, her tenth. Her aunt and I drop in on their lawn (keeping our social distance) for a visit. Both Grands, freed from house confinement, momentarily are attempting handstands and cartwheels. Watching them, a little breeze brushes by. Turning, fluttering cherry blossoms fill the air. And instantly, again, the everything-ness in One moment.