The call of the simple life

I happened to find this post in my 'drafts', written a long time ago, and rather liked it. A similar feeling has just washed over me. Darn, but I am a homebody...

I'm flooded with a sense of happiness right now - feelings of love. From where do they emanate? Well, my husband and I saw the Australian Ballet over the weekend perform 'Chroma' and that was a wonderful treat, a really lovely sharing experienc for us that followed a delightful meal and wine at the Arts Centre. We'd left early enough to have no fuss or anxiety about getting there on time and we both were dazzled by the performance. It's going to be heading to New York and other cities so if you get the chance, don't miss it.

The following evening my son treated us to dinner at the city's most prestigious restaurant and we used up a voucher he was given at work. We didn't hit the hay until 2 am - a lovely, lovely evening with he and his girlfriend.

Today I had one of my rare outings to a huge shopping precint to buy them a slow cooker for their little house that they are renting together and it was fun to do that - bought my book club book, just simple things, but fun.

Is my sense of happiness to be found in those events? I doubt it. It was lovely, privileged, but it's not why I feel so darn content as I type away, I don't think.

I have the big living room/kitchen to myself right now. Both sons are in their rooms upstairs and I am about to complete making salmon patties from scratch and fry them up. My eldest son has just left with the washing I did for him because the washing machine in the new little Victorian rental broke down. I'm playing some superbly restful, peaceful guitar music. I've already done my weekly assignment...

No one thing in particular is great cause for this happiness that has washed over me. Yet, I feel so 'at one', so calm, so peaceful, so content, as if this is where I am meant to be at this moment in time; my home. I feel this tremendous welling of harmony in my life. The work surrounds me on all fronts. My son has a huge amount of work to chew off this evening. Tomorrow, I must write my heart out to get along with deadlines.

And yet, right now, the world stands still. I'm as peaceful as the clay Buddha that sits at the back wall on my desk, oblivous of all the paper and efforts that take place on this laptop. She sits in eternal peace, her half closed eyes denoting the peace within her. It is as if she has cast her spell over my mood, made me eternally grateful for this privileged life I lead, so full of love. I note the stillness around me. I observe the stillness within myself.

Sometimes I wonder why it is that when I play this guitar music of a Hobart man, that every single time it puts me into this place of peaceful surrender to the love of life. I remember him, I remember his wife and I remember thinking, they are peace, they are love. I want that slow, meaningful, peaceful life too.

Tasmania calls to me so often. I adore it there. I'm happy there. One day I will buy a little house there and the children can come and visit me and let that dear, little island make magic in their lives too.