Spiritual Practices, a List

I’ve longed for a more spiritual life,
imagining that future bathed in contemplative
silences while sunlight streams through the skylight.
Candles will flicker on my altar,
as my body merges with everything:
the sunlight, the earth below, the stars above,
the atmosphere, all beings everywhere.
Insight and inspiration will float like air.

But then there is living a life.

Sheets are mounded next to the washer.
The dog hovers for her walk.
We need groceries for dinner.
My inbox weights my attention.
The passenger-side visor in my car is broken.
Instagram has a golden retriever
who’s playing ball with a donkey.
And there’s a protest today at two.
If I don’t participate, I don’t care about democracy.
Should I rewrite my home page?
My high schooler needs to talk.

And then there is living that life. 

The warmth of the sheets from the dryer
as I fold them into clean, smooth lines.
The scent of mandarins at the grocery store,
their leafy stems still attached.
The red-headed woodpecker
tapping on an old paper wasps’ nest
when I pause to let my dog sniff.
The cocoon of my bedroom at night,
music from my headphones nestling me into myself.
The ache in my heart when I stay up listening to my kids,
because my time at the edge of their beds
will soon be only a dream.