Got up this morning at a decent time, after a moderately good night's sleep, drove the wife to work, then got my son off to his work. Cleaned up the breakfast dishes, let the lovebird fly around for a bit, then sat down at the laptop and wrote a haiku. Sitting at a kitchen table on a cold winter day, cup of coffee at hand, warm house, and counting syllables is a good and privileged way to live.
If karma counts, I find myself wondering if I was good in my last life and I am on way up, or if I am squandering these moments in maya and setting myself up for a correction in the next incarnation.
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