Remember the child who receives a fancy toy for Christmas
by his doting parents.  Watch as the child opens the
present, see the looks of adoration on the faces of the
parents, then note the surprise that moves across their
faces that changes in the next moment to disappointment,
finally, as the light dawns, to delight.

What are they seeing?  They’re watching their first born
open the present, look at it briefly, discard it, and, then
happily play with the box and wrappings for hours.

As I write this, I’m in Kona, on the Big Island, Hawaii.
This is everybody’s paradise.  I have thrown out the
present and am endlessly enjoying the wrapper.

What draws me?  I pass on the fancy catamaran trip to the
best snorkel sit on the island.  I pass on the night dive
with the manta rays.  This dive was life changing for some
in my family.  I pass on the parasail lifting high over
Kailua Bay, which Kevin thought was the best event of the
trip.

I pass because the ordinary steals my heart.  Instead of
stopping and smelling the roses, I stop and smell the
plumaria. 

The unfamiliar and ubiquitous bird songs of the mynas and
the zebra doves enchant me. 

The Saffron Finch that joins my dawn Taiji becomes a loved
companion. 

I listen to the ever-changing sounds of the surf 30 feet
(10 m) outside my window.  I “fly” over coral reefs,
listening to the sound of my breathing as I snorkel in a
rocky cove, 100m south of here.

My Zen teacher, Genjo, might say, “Zen is the celebration
of the ordinary.”  At any rate, I say so.

Now, what ordinary miracles do I see at home?  Home too is
paradise if I would but look.  This trip I was bowled over
by how beautiful Seattle is.  Everywhere I look, I see the
Divine.

What is sacred and magic about the ordinary in your life?
Find it.  I promise you its there.

Exercise:  Go outside for 10 minutes, look with your
artist’s eye, and find three things that knock your socks
off.  That make you say, “Oh, wow!”

Example:  As I was driving home, I saw a photographer
surrounded by trees with the astonishing fall colors, the
beauty of the lake behind him, as he took a photo from one
foot away (15cm) of a pay telephone.  I almost pulled over
to so I could see what he was seeing.  Get it?
If we had a keen vision and feeling of all ordinary human
life, it would be like hearing the grass grow and the
squirrel’s heart beat, and we should die of that roar which
lies on the other side of silence. As it is, the best of us
walk about well wadded with stupidity. – George Eliot

Simplicity, simplicity, simplicity! I say, let your affairs
be as two or three, and not a hundred or a thousand;
instead of a million count half a dozen, and keep your
accounts on your thumb-nail. – Our old friend, Henry David
Thoreau

Blessings,

William

P.S. Pass this post on to anyone who you think would
Prosper & enjoy these wonderful insights.