I am Druid. I am neither wealthy nor wise, neither beautiful nor famous. I have not traveled the world nor sat at the feet of the celebrated. I have not been toasted for my achievements nor have I experienced an illustrious career. But for lack of all that, I still have an extraordinary life. I am Druid, and my life is rich with the possibilities of the ordinary.
What I offer to you are simply the footnotes. Reap from them the richness of texture, the flavor of what can be and carry away what you wish to add to your own life as a Druid.
Lie in bed in the light of morning and anticipate the treasures of the day. Stretch luxuriously and thank your body for its gifts. Then rise and greet the light with open arms.
Take a walk.
Watch a tree change with the seasons.
Water the garden and watch droplets bead on the leaves of plants and soak into the thirsty ground. Listen for the garden's response to your watering.
Sit alone in the sunlight and listen through the silence.
Listen to the music of a stream or fountain.
Buy fresh flowers for no particular reason but for the love of color and scent and the way they look against the backdrop of your wall. Buy them even if you have little money and be fed on their richness.
Buy a loaf of freshly baked bread and share it with the birds. Taste its rich grain and the sun and wind and rain and earth that nourished it.
Pluck a tomato ripe from the vine and eat it immediately. Let the juice run down your chin.
Lie down in the grass with your ear to the ground and listen to the rhythms of the earth.
Sleep under the stars.
Lose yourself in thought.
Cup your cold hands around a warm mug and breathe with gratitude.
Choose to be cheerful, even when circumstances demand otherwise.
Determine to learn one new thing that day.
Smile at a stranger. Smile at everyone you meet today.
Smile at nothing in particular.
Read something that lifts your spirits.
Yearn with holy longing to know the meaning of your life.
Fold your hands in prayer and be glad.
"If we had a keen vision of all ordinary life, it would be like hearing the grass grow or the squirrel's heart beat, and we should die of the roar which lies on the other side of silence. As it is, the quickest of us walk about well-wadded with stupidity." George Eliot