Hello, giant sand.

I'll wait. (or) Delight in what is - setting agenda and anxiety aside.

I am inhabiting the immediate and leaving gratitude for another day. I’m letting what is be what is. I want the God’s-eye-view. The one that looks and says, “It is good.” Without agenda or anxiety - the welcome of what is becomes delight in what is. So here I go:

Hello, giant sand.

Let me sit here long enough to watch the river boulders grind themselves to sand.

The multicolored river bed’s mosaicked with the worn down stones that were as large as these I sit on now.

Time-lapse this segment of the bank by centuries, millenia, and let me see it tumbled round in the yearly tide of snowmelt, water levels up and down. The rumble grinding chip by chip and smoothing edges down to curves. Dissolving in the gentle agitation of aeons. To pebbles. To skipping stones.

It won’t be long, in boulder years, until this is a strand of stoney beads, bright-colored wet, dull dusty rose when dry. I think I’ll wait and gather them. I have some time.

It’s good that you’re here. I’m glad you exist.