Chiaroscuro

I looked up at the dark predawn sky and saw nothing, looked more carefully and saw the merest hint of clouds to the east.  They were more a dreamy suggestion of what might be a cloud eventually.  Not even that much definition existed.  I even wondered if I was just hopeful to see clouds.  But the dawn came up steadily if not slowly.  

I had a satisfying swim, not just because the clouds had become visible, but because it was the end of a long week of work and I had a full span of daylight in which to be healthy and alive.  I do count my blessings.  I know I am fortunate.  I do not take anything for granted.

It was an immense relief to begin a day that, from the minute I first noticed those dim outlines in the east, suggestions of clouds -- and not simply clouds but grand piles of slowly roiling collections of charged moisture and air currents -- I chose to do the things that were beautiful, pleasurable and interesting.  It's the way I have to regain a sense of what is good and right in life.

We drove to the water's edge, parked and walked a mile or so to a favorite breakfast spot and ate out in the fresh air, and I tasted every bite, eating slowly, savoring my meal.  It was delicious.  We went to the Friday Farmer's Market and took our time walking to and fro, talked to a couple of friends we chanced on there.  Every flower was vivid, each display of greens or fruit was rich with color.  All of it seemed splendid.  The clouds were now thick and white, piled up high like mounds of cream and the wide sky was intensely blue as if painted there by exuberant patriots.

I took a long luxurious nap and ate a late lunch made of the meat and mushrooms we'd purchased earlier.  Fresh, simple flavors.  That's all it was and all it had to be.  Absolute simplicity was exactly perfect, a relief, a splendor.

We walked downtown and saw a movie.  It was a matinee, so we were nearly alone in the theater and wallowed in the happiness of picking our favorite sweet spot in the theater, not too close and not too far away.  I felt like some sort of charm had been cast on the day, a beneficent sweetness that allowed all stress to float away like a film of chaff on a river's surface.  Simplicity was cleansing my spirit, creating a chiaroscuro contrast with the past week of work.  

With a half hour left before sunset, we drove to Asilomar and saw the new version of the early dawn clouds assembling on the western border of the visible sky and the sun gilding the edges of the waves.  It was sunset, 14 hours after I'd first awakened, and the clouds' presence in ever-changing colors and forms reflected the regeneration of my energy, sense of optimism and joy.

Restoration of the spirit is possible.  At times when simplicity is all I can handle, it is simplicity that brings me the greatest peace of mind.