At the end of the day, when I haven’t an ounce of energy left and I’m emptied out like a seashell (and yet dinner is still to be made), I have a habit of going walking.
No, it doesn’t make sense. So I ignore my thoughts, which say, “Go lie on the couch with the excellent book you are reading,” and instead grab my key and just go.
Walking, I’m open like a Mason jar to whatever will come. All 6 sense doors are awake and alive: sight, hearing, smell, taste, touch, and mind. And I would also say, heart. When robins stand stiffly alert at my approach, staring at me bravely right in the eye, I look back with eyes filled with love. Tenderly, I bring the lilac bloom closer, smelling with rapture, one hundred percent present.