The wind blows fiercely from the sea and over the barrier island and bay, and brings its own kind of peace as the wood stove radiates its warmth through my loft and the coffee machine makes its little sputtering noises to let me know it is almost time for a fresh cup. Smiling at the old music coming through the speakers next to me, I think of all these ways to connect – as we’ve come to call it in contemporary spiritual speech – and connect I do.

The next thought is that it is easy to be connected here: easy to appreciate this place and the beauty that comes with it. I think back though, to different places that weren’t so secluded, so obviously “peaceful” – and remember the connection being equally profound. Times and places, I then suppose, are just what they are, and we can find our ways wherever and whenever, and sometimes we are surprised as we were unaware that we would find them then and there. Ah, I muse, I muse, as the clouds gallop East carrying their borrowed light from the late afternoon sun.

Sometimes, we are bound not to notice the galloping clouds or think of the radiated warmth and may wonder why this is so. We may feel that some set of ideals keeps us connected, though we miss so much as we think so intently upon them. Sometimes we just think about all the stuff around us until it becomes a whirlwind of worry. Is there a preventative measure? Perhaps the answer to that question is in changing the question itself.

This is an old concept, but an important one to revisit, as we navigate in, on, or with our whirlwinds, and winds and clouds and highways and hallways. We may place the roots of this in simple expansion of purpose – growth. So, the question changes: “How might I appreciate this time most appropriately?” That’s one good question – or a good way to phrase a good question. It leaves plenty of room for interpretation: most appropriately? The guiding concept is that sometimes the most appropriate appreciation of a place and time is other than what we thought the “best” would be, because the true best is often completely unexpected – brand new and deeply known at once.

Now the clouds glow red in the West and the wind sings through the trees. I appreciate the sights and sounds and flavors along with the opportunity to give this small gift of communication.