Enough

My kids examining the bleeding heart flowers

At my most spiritual, I am outside.  Makes sense, right?  Native Americans found spirituality in the world around them, just as other cultures have throughout time.  During this season of fecundity, or rebirth if you like, it’s hard to go wrong contemplating the trees budding (unless, like me they make you sneeze out of control — but that’s what prescription antihistamines are for) or the birds building nests, and all of the neighbors who I haven’t seen since last Halloween strolling down the street with wagons full of kids.  Yesterday, I spent most of the day outside barefoot.  Living up to that Kentucky stereotype.  The kids had friends over and played while I gardened and read on the porch swing, listening to the bird conversations.  It’s times like this when I’m most content and questions about eternity just seem unnecessarily angsty.  It’s times like this when I don’t feel the need for the four walls of a church or synagogue because my porch, my yard and my kids’ laughter is enough.