Summer. Hot. Sweating. Insects. Even as my mind categorizes and judges these elements of our world, my soul watches with interest. I find myself in frequent dialogue with my Self.  

My inner world contains perfect weather, perfect experiences, perfect everything.  And so like the flower leaning toward the sun, like the dog leaning into a friendly scratch, I lean inward. I lean into that Place where and when I am Loving It All.

In that Perfect Now, I rest on the banks of the river of gratefulness, watching it pass through my soul into the world. Humming.

Perfect.

Amber Hinton