I stopped at Horai, one of my favorite farm-to-table bakery stands, and bought the best potato knish I’ve ever eaten. The savory spices blended perfectly with buttery soft Yukon Gold potatoes, and the flaky pastry crumbled with every bite. I went back and grabbed the tiny dish of pickle mustard to go with it.

We slow down. We go deep into our hearts, touch our truth, and softly, it glows. We come to life. This glow starts a chain reaction and the beings beside us light up too. Our vibration touches them, and their hearts illuminate. I’ve seen it over a thousand times.

Rich, sweet, and savory all at once, this meal from Sunday has been the core of lunch offerings through this period of loving and mourning our sweet Harley.

I grieved for her pain, and I grieved for my imminent loss. I felt grateful for the beauty and meaningful connection of these past few days. And I realized in a flash that this grief was not helping Harley. It was authentic … and it was centered on my experience, not hers.

Seda and I harvested apples in the morning, then lugged the card table, chairs, cutting boards, knives, and bowls out to erect our workstation in the sun. We sorted, washed, dried, and sliced our fruit before setting it aside for its next destination.

I considered what was in my power to do that could be helpful. Worry, though tempting, did not top the list. In fact, I found myself actively re-routing worry as I daily assessed his mobility and pain. It was no easy feat to side-step concern on those fronts.

That’s how we see what’s truly important to us. We discover that in the end, we have fit it in around the edges, in the middle, on the sides. We innovate and sometimes sleep a little less. But when we hold the harvest in our hands … that is such a sweet moment, isn’t it?

That midday luncheon above showcased our autumn arugula and the last of the heirloom tomatoes as well as my new Love … Greek Gigante beans! All that and a strawberry lovage shrub pretty much sent me.

“The over-sized hydrangeas and wind-gnarled coastal pines are signature features of autumn in Newport. I grew up on the coast, so this is my home-away-from-home.”

“Seda and I met in the Bearlodge Writers group in Sundance, Wyoming, over 30 years ago, and this weekend we came full circle to retreat and write together again. We are both stepping towards writing full time and we are both ecstatic about the lifestyle it allows.”

No matter how many times I’m schooled on the magic of timing, I’m apt to forget it in the face of my desire. Maybe I want desperately to say something and be heard … but this time, this place, this person — not going to happen.

I felt grateful as I polished my terminal connections for love, allowing the flow to nourish me. I laughed at my sleepy daze of loneliness and separation.

We share our abundance knowingly and sometimes unknowingly. Our fruit trees hang over others’ fences; our smiles inspire smiles all around us. All of this sharing is a wonder to me. There is no shortage of wonder in the world. I am grateful beyond measure.

Now I run for joy as a celebration of the inner joy I created when I perceived so little in my external world to be happy about. This joy-path is especially precious, because now I know that joy is for everyone, no matter how down and out.

“Mom, this is vegetables. This is straight up vegetables.” My eyes widened and I laughed. I had not meant to pull one over on him. I’d just forgotten why I’d been avoiding those popsicles.

When I elevate my feelings, the quality of my thoughts rises to meet them. I think new thoughts, and I’m so grateful. I’ve been shifting my center of awareness to include all beings for some time, and I’m happy to find one more place to do it. Another step towards alignment.

I also cultivate an awareness of my thoughts and feelings, turning my attention towards that which nourishes and delights. It looks like attending the Joy Collective meetings weekly, where I am inspired and grateful to learn from others who are applying the practices I’m happy to contribute.

This image asks me to explore everything that happens to me as a possible gift. Just as I did not see the castle at first in the inverted image, so I might miss the value of what comes my way.

Our every action and inaction impact sundry beings around us. All of life is interdependent, whether we are aware of it or not. It is no wonder that Marshall Rosenberg’s Key Distinctions include a juxtaposition of “Interdependence and Independence/Dependence.”

Beauty is in the balance, don’t you think?