Window on the world

When I was younger, and a lot dumber, I thought I had to search for the world. I have since learnt, from reading Buddha and the Desert Fathers, that in fact the world will come to you. If you wait, if you're still, if you sit in silence. It's a lot easier, and a lot less energy consuming.
Every morning I sit at my window with hazel eyes large and kid-like with expectation: so what is going to happen today?
I make few plans, definitely not a single-year, nor a five-year one, and I'm not even sure what's coming next month.
But I have never been let down, the world comes to me. Always. Without fail. I expect the best, and that's what my plate receives.
In my light blue, fine striped pj bottoms I sit here with two cats in my lap, my coffee on the sill, and watch the dairy truck pass, the birds in song, the garden tap trip, the red-chested cape robin and sharp yellow weaver stick-leggedly play in my paradise.
And the world comes to me, and I am in the world.
And I am filled with the fruits of the Spirit: Love. Joy. Peace. Patience. Kindness. Goodness. Faithfulness. Gentleness. Self-control.
I am blessed.
I give thanks for the gift of this day, and for being alive [no full stop, ever]