At the end of the day

The night is drawing in and sleep is close. I lay down all that I have been until now in the trust of a tomorrow and a new dawn. I know that I must make peace with the day. For this is death in some way. The annihilation of sleep and the crossing over into another realm where everything is different. Practice for what is to come. 

But how to make peace with such a day? I did no great deeds, won no great battles. I wasted precious moments in distraction and rejection. I didn’t change the world or open a thousand hearts, I even forgot to listen to the sound of the river as I walked to work. I did meet my daughter’s eyes and playful heart in presence, I did laugh with a friend and love the wind carved lake. There was sadness alongside joy and grace alongside confusion. The day pretty much just rolled on by like so many others.

I gently realise as I try to come to rest, acceptance and peace with what has been that somehow it is impossible. That peace can only be made in the moment. It is not a negotiation with the value or non-value of the events and experiences of the day. This day, like my life, has been exquisite and ordinary and the one that I call Ben has been carried and tumbled by the waves and the winds.

In peace the rights and wrongs, the good and the bad are gone. Peace unfolds now, in the meeting of my impossibly inadequate perfect self with the vast reaches of bright starlight that sway behind my eyes. Peace is chosen, allowed and remembered. Given permission to be. The endless judgment and evaluation of myself and the events I live through dissolve into the iridescent meeting point of heart and universe. This simple soul cutting a bow wave of love and kindness through the strange ocean of time. I lay my head down, peace is upon me and about me. I let go, this day, this life is complete. May there be another dawn.