Every Monday from 18:30 to 20:30 I do voluntary work at my local hospice. On the signing in sheet I'm down as 'Security'. This means I have to go round the gardens checking the doors and windows are shut properly and there're no 'undesirables' hanging around on the premises.
A lot of work has gone into the gardens to make them what they are now. A path snakes its way through the flower beds, with benches dotted beneath large oaks. It leads to a pond where, in Summer, you can watch the newts beneath the murky water. It was this pond that, on Monday, I sat and meditated for a few minutes. It was just getting dark; I listened to the river (that's just beyond the boundaries of the gardens) crashing behind me and watched as the bats caught their supper above me.
An overwhelming sense of gratitude came of over me.
Everything was perfect.
...and it still is.