Mundane is luxury.

Your attention is delightfully delicate now. Yes, delicate. Take your experiences with a small spoon. This is living. Be in your body. Be in your being. Be in your world. Explore, as Jon Batiste said "the muse in the mundane". Because mundane is luxury, really. Mundane is daily work, obligation, and dedication. Mundane is alive and perhaps too, well and healthy. Mundane is luxury. It is walls and roof and floor. It is water in the spout and shower. It is a warm coat and dry boots. It is a walk in the woods. It is a journal full of scribbled sadness and bold-pressed joy! It is a sleeping, sighing dog. It is a pencil. It is clean paper. It is a stove to warm the room and a stove to warm the stew. Mundane is luxury. It is a thriving sort of surviving. Mundane is luxury. Believe me. You don't want the complexity of tragedy. The muse is in the gratitude for the mundane, for the experience of living on Earth during a time of walls and roofs and stoves and boots and notebooks and coats and water spouts. The mundane is hidden within a camouflage costume - a cloak of boredom. Discard it. Go find the stars. Walk in the cold rain and dry by the fire. Sing grace to the clean water and the stew and the bread. The muse in the mundane may be gratitude.