So yesterday I mowed.
It was freaking awesome. No kidding.
I started in the backyard, thinking that any mistakes or embarrassments–like not being strong enough to pull the starter rope or running over my foot or something–would be hidden. I primed the engine, pulled the rope, and she fired right up for me–caught for a second–sputtered–died. Rats. The second time was the charm, though, and she ran like a champ after that.
It’d been close to fifteen years since I’d last had to mow, but I fell into familiar territory in no time flat, cutting in around the edges first, then sectioning off the yard as I pushed and walked, pushed and walked, pausing now and then to pick up sticks, to ease my way around tree roots, to secure a fallen strand of clothesline. The steps to that old slow sweet dance of the pivot-and-turn took no thought at all, and for a few minutes, there was nothing but the sound of the mower, the smell of the newly-cut grass, and complete happiness in that simple job of pushing and walking.
It was immensely satisfying. Just cutting the grass. Simple. Blissful.
Simple is good. Simple is beautiful. And there is beauty–even bliss–to be found in the mundane. I hope you find your own bliss today.