The present is the gift of peace of mind

My coffee is a tasty, warm treat this morning. Light as air milky foam froths over the top. I am content.

The house is coming into order, or at least a semblance of such. One of my water lily paintings rests on the mantel, creating an oasis of bright and vibrant colour in the living room. Upstairs my desk is set up, though boxes still contain files and the other flotsam that contribute to my home-office life. In my office alcove, Alexis has hung three of her paintings -- my favourite, Monet-inspired scene she painted of a photo from her trip to Giverny. Like two people creating a relationship, the house is coming together into a home where harmony permeates throughout the rooms and the wonder of being part of something new settles into the joy of being two hearts connected in love.

Before I moved in here, I had no set plan as to where everything would go. I had an idea. An assumption. A vision -- but had not laid out a gridded schematic exactly detailing what went where.

Like life. I have a vision. An idea. An assumption that all will go according to plan if I stick to working my plan while being flexible and open to possibility. Sometimes, my plan for living a beautiful life has been somewhat sketchy. Its been obscured by my fear that being too precise will limit the unexpected wonder of life's surprises lighting up my day. When I step into my fear and let courage draw me through it, I act from my best intentions. Suddenly, the unexpected happens and life opens up with limitless possibilities

This house is evolving into a home. There are still more boxes than places to put things. More things than fit -- or are needed. Culling continues as I unpack and merge things from two separate lives coming together.

There is no clear-cut plan as to how that will happen. Just an idea. A vision. A commitment to open, honest and loving communication. A desire to create a future founded on best steps forward today.

It is here, in this place of anticipation that I step wary of triggers from the past. Last night, as I puttered and put things in places and carried out unwanted debris to the garage, I listened to the silence of the house. There were no ghosts whispering in corners. No ethereal spirits looming in darkened alcoves.

There was simply a sense of peace. Of rightness. Of contentment. A feeling of being where I belong, in this moment.

I cannot see the future. I can however prepare a pathway to tomorrow that is clear of obstacles from the past. Acting on my best intentions, I focus on doing my absolute, total best in this moment, right now and fly free of fear.

In my commitment to turning up in this moment, paying attention to this moment and speaking my truth about this moment, I stay unattached to the outcome. The outcome will be what the outcome is. I can't control the future. I can create a present where what comes out of today is the gift of peace of mind growing from my loving heart embracing all that I am and all that is around me.

The question is: Are you committed to turning up, paying attention, speaking your truth and staying unattached to the outcome? Are you committed to being your amazing self in this moment and letting tomorrow come when it will?