For the very first time ever, our town has an ice skating rink.
It's small, and it's seasonal, and it's tucked away in a tent at the far end of the Oregon Gardens, but it's a good thing.
We went last night, and once again, this sense of Being, of Experiencing, trumps every other kind of thought or worry or drama that you can have.
Just showing up to life is plenty.
It's a good thing to head out at dusk and into a garden blazing with all kinds of lights, and then make your way past the wassail huts and the fire pits and the Santa hut, all the way to the skating rink.
It's a good thing to strap on bright orange rental skates, and find your sea legs on a rectangle of frozen water.
All kinds of people were there, having their own experience:
There were dozens of locals, wearing some kind of traditional Germanic holiday wear.
There were entire extended families wearing Santa hats.
There were the normal amount of kids zipping around like speed demons, no hat, no gloves, big grins.
There was a collective of students from University of Tokyo, dressed head-to-toe in black and giggling.
There was past-life Hans Brinker: a very tall man who skated effortlessly, hands clasped behind him.
And there was the classic Oregon hipster: big brown beard adorned with a jingle jangle of red and green and silver bulbs all bobbing and dancing as he skated.
By the time we left it was pitch dark, save for the lights that twinkled on every tree.
Every experience, no matter what happens, is always Enough.
And lots of times, it's way more.
Just showing up to life, is to make room for dazzlement, and wonder, and of course Light.
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