Today it was uncharacteristically cold. Like, middle of autumn cold. I wore my long, brown down winter coat to walk Roshi. And a fleece scarf around my neck. June 5th in New York.
I’m not complaining. I actually really love colder weather—much prefer it to hot weather. It’s just a little out of whack for this time frame. And all day, all I could think of was how wonderful it would be to take a hot bubble bath.
I haven’t done it yet, and it’s 10:39pm. But I’m going to. I am. And my heart is expanding right now, with that delicious, quiet anticipation—waiting for that moment when my foot moves into the soft, sweet, warm water, and the rest of my body covers in goosebumps just until it, too, sinks in. What a great blessing it is—just to be able to experience such pleasurable warmth, in response to being cold. How many are there in the world, who can’t? How many are there for whom the simple fact of hot water and a bathtub of any kind is a luxury that’s unimaginable?
As I prepare this bath tonight, I will do so with a full appreciation for the great good fortune it represents—and will dedicate it to everyone in the world who needs comfort, and a quiet place to experience a simple pleasure.