The Daffodil is Daffodiling

At last, I’ve discovered the best way to use my time on earth, the quietest discovery I’ve ever made: watching the sun rise while counting backwards all the things I’ve done wrong in the past.

I watch the sun rise from the beginning when I have no words for sunrise yet, letting my eyes wake up gradually so that they become friendly with what little light there is on the horizon, watching how gracefully the new light and all my little old fears—all the good things in my life and all mistakes I’ve made in the past—become mixed into the landscape, with me and without me!

I keep counting, counting is very important to me now, counting gets my attention, counting slows me down: one, two, three, four etc. breathing in and out with the count, timing my counting until it’s in some sort of step with the sun rising and I can face the things I’ve done wrong and the things I’ve done right.

True: counting multiplies the errors I’ve committed over the years, some by commission, some by omission, until the errors are in my face and there’s no denying them. Counting also keeps track of the things I’ve done right, and I’m grateful for this count too.

Finally, when I’m at least somewhat awake, the sun, when there is a sun, has already spread a big blanket on the landscape right in front of me.

                                                                                     (after Marcus Aurelius)

Daffodil, front yard, San Francisco, Ca. as seen February 27, 2024. Photo by author.