Perfection

Every once in a while, I am overwhelmed by this feeling that I am exactly where I need to be, doing exactly what I need to be doing. . . that no matter what else could have been different in my life, at this exact moment I would be doing this exact thing.

I first had this feeling when I was a student. I'd been ironing my clothes in my dorm room (back in the days when I actually gave a fig about my clothes being wrinkled) and I paused to trip down stairs to pick up the mail. While skipping down the stairs, I first encountered the sensation of being exactly where the universe meant for me to be at that moment.

I had it again last night. It has been a long while since I've had this feeling. It was a nice reminder of an old friend.

Last night, I was cutting up tomatoes, cheese, and basil for a caprese salad and thinking about the last of the farmer's market veggies that I was going to toss in a pan with some butter and olive oil for dinner. And, in that moment, everything in my life was perfection.