I had in mind to write a blog about Balance. It’s been on my mind as the seasons shift. And I will come back to Balance, ha! in a later post. But then I came across a Love Poem by Billy Collins in the Writer’s Almanac, and was moved to tears.  It changed my day, and I pray it will continue to change my life. Everyday love.  Some of you heard about the two Golden Crowned Kinglets I found in my living room just two days ago.  Kinglets are about 2 inches/5 cm long, and  these two were fluttering around our 12th floor apartment living room in considerable agitation.  I was able to catch them fairly smoothly, thank goodness.  I didn’t have to chase them.  I guess they were pretty exhausted.   After a couple of calming breaths and good wishes, I took them out to the corner of our balcony. One flew away immediately, the other took some time to recover from the shock, but also seemed to be able to fly away. I found them in the quiet dawn… and held them very gently. It was a precious experience. You see that the mouth of the shocked one is open and it’s rocked back on its heels, so to speak.  I felt great tenderness, and awe at the delicacy and grit of these tiny creatures. And love.  Aimless, everyday love. And so touched and uplifted that this tiny kinglet also flew on its way. And this brings me to Collins’ poem, which I’d like to include here, just in case you don’t click the link to check it out. Collins calls it Aimless Love, but I consider it to be about Everyday Love.  All around, available, life changing. Here  is the poem: This morning as I walked along the lakeshore, I fell in love with a wren and later in the day with a mouse the cat had dropped under the dining room table. In the shadows of an autumn evening, I fell for a seamstress still at her machine in the tailor’s window, and later for a bowl of broth, steam rising like smoke from a naval battle. This is the best kind of love, I thought, without recompense, without gifts, or unkind words, without suspicion, or silence on the telephone. The love of the chestnut, the jazz cap and one hand on the wheel. No lust, no slam of the door— the love of the miniature orange tree, the clean white shirt, the hot evening shower, the highway that cuts across Florida. No waiting, no huffiness, or rancor— just a twinge every now and then for the wren who had built her nest on a low branch overhanging the water and for the dead mouse, still dressed in its light brown suit. But my heart is always propped up in a field on its tripod, ready for the next arrow. After I carried the mouse by the tail to a pile of leaves in the woods, I found myself standing at the bathroom sink gazing down affectionately at the soap, so patient and soluble, so at home in its pale green soap dish. I could feel myself falling again as I felt its turning in my wet hands and caught the scent of lavender and stone. Aimless, everyday love — can offer itself in countless ways: be delicious, delicate, ordinary, startling, small, surprising, gentle…and it is life changing. The rest of my day I had the intention to see with these eyes of aimless, ordinary love.  Sometimes I was present to it.  Often I drifted into my doing mode, unconscious, busy, distracted.  But as I write these words, I commit again to being attuned to everyday love, every day.  And to allowing my soul to feel it, dwell in it, share it, celebrate it. May your lives be touch by everyday, aimless love.  May we remember to love, every day!

Jill Schroder is the author of BECOMING: Journeying Toward Authenticity.  BECOMING is an invitation for self-reflection, and to mine our memorable moments for insights, meaning, and growth.  Check the website for a sample chapter, or see the reviews to get a flavor for the volume.  Follow me on Twitter, let’s be friends on Facebook