I rolled over and pulled the quilt up over my shoulders for extra warmth and snuggled myself back in. The rain continued its pitter-patter against my bedroom window with a soft, rhythmic song that almost lulled me back to sleep. WHOOSH!!! My eyes bounced open as the rain changed in intensity and lashed out against the side of my house. The wind began to gently blow now, causing the leaves high on the eucalyptus tree to respond with a soft percussion as they rustled delicately together. I turned now toward the window, but stayed snuggled down on this cold, drizzly morning and closed my eyes once more. I listened this time. I listened to the melodic ebb and flow. I listened to the crescendo and decrescendo of the winds and and the rain drops. I began to hear the changing tempo, the addition of new sounds and suddenly I was listening to a symphony. In my mind, I began to conduct my backyard orchestra. With my baton, I directed the percussion, the winds, and the brassy undertones of branches and birdhouses as they bounced together. I commanded the cadence, momentum, and volume, directing my baton toward the leaves or the winds or rains and branches, as together they offered up both harmonies and solos, culminating in a brilliantly played concerto. The piece finally slowed and ended with calm, as the soothing notes and triads one by one faded away into silence.
I realized how easily I could have wasted this experience with groans and grumbles. How often do I miss the good that is right in front of me simply because I have something else planted in my mind? While I am brooding, I don't recognize joy. While I am groaning, I don't notice the tenderness of my lover's sweet kiss. While I am dissatisfied, I over-look friendships, and in my grumblings I might allow myself to be robbed of a delightful morning concert. Let each moment embrace you, with appreciation, awareness, and attentiveness, void of grumbling and groaning lest you be robbed.