Devils Waiting in the Sidelines

When I think of blessings, it instantly brings to mind the auto common superstition of the uttering of "bless you", the quick trick to foil the devil from stealing your soul in that moment your heart stops during a sneeze. (Is that really true?!)

This ties into the definitions of "blessings" for me if I break it down and think about it. The blessing said before the consumption of food, the blessing we give to a downtrodden soul; this is giving a thanks in advance, the protection of something we don't want taken away from us. Our nourishment, our faith, our hope, our happiness. Our safeguard that our Life, our joy, will not be stolen from us. Out from under us when we are vulnerable to attack, when our guards have taken a bathroom break.

I find myself offering up blessings in those instances I realize what I take for granted, the rug I realize I am so unsteady and so grateful to be on that could be swept out from under my feet, so suddenly and irretrievably. I bless others in the words of "blessings" in a conscious way, for their happiness, and as a comfort as well.

On the days when my heart is not so heavy that it has clouded my vision; at the onset of my day when I am released from tempest darkening my Soul, I offer up a wordless gaze, rich with the vocabulary of the Universe, bursting with thanks for the blessings of now for the stretch of the canvas of today that is blank and inviting, wide open to hopes and dreams and possibilities.

Blessings to the mystery of all that is available for me, and the mystery of my hope that has created this awareness inside of my Being.