There’s something profound about a blanket spread beneath towering pine trees on a perfect Saturday afternoon. As I sit here, watching my friends and family laugh over homemade coconut-lime popsicles while Agnes (my sisters pitbull terrier ) joyfully chase a squirrel up a tree, I’m struck by a simple truth;
this moment contains everything we’ve been seeking in our endless pursuit of more.
The sun filters through the pine needles above us, creating dancing patterns of light and shadow on our little sanctuary.
The air smells of earth and possibility. Our picnic spread—vibrant vegan Mexican food that tastes like love itself (shout out Reina) —sits before us like a spread of vegan feast.
And in this space, I find myself remembering what the great teachers have always known;
paradise isn’t a destination; it’s a way of seeing.
The Reversal of Desire in Action
“When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.”
Today, I’m practicing what Phil Stutz calls the Reversal of Desire—but instead of moving toward pain, I’m moving fully toward this moment of joy.
How often do we resist happiness because we fear it won’t last? How often do we hold back from fully experiencing pleasure because we’ve convinced ourselves we don’t deserve it?
But here, with coconut lime popsicles melting on our tongues and clear blue sky stretching endlessly above us, I’m reminded that joy is not something we earn—it’s something we allow.
Abraham-Hicks teaches us that we are vibrational beings, and in this moment, I can feel my frequency rising with every laugh, every bite, every gentle breeze that carries the scent of pine and possibility.
The Inquiry of Presence
As Sarah reaches for another homemade treat, I catch myself thinking, “This is too good to last.”
And immediately, I hear Byron Katie’s voice: “Is that true?” Can I absolutely know that this goodness is temporary? Who would I be without the thought that joy must end?
Without that limiting belief, I am fully here. I am the child who believes Saturday afternoons stretch into infinity.
I am the being who knows that abundance isn’t about having more, but about fully receiving what’s already here.
Agnes playing nearby doesn’t worry about tomorrow—she is pure presence, pure joy, pure acceptance of this moment’s gifts, even though she is wearing a muzzle.
The Gratitude Flow
Naval Ravikant reminds us that “a happy person is just a person who has good thoughts.”
And what could generate better thoughts than gratitude for this simple perfection?
I activate what Stutz and Michels call the Grateful Flow, letting appreciation wash through me like the warm afternoon light washing through the pine branches above.
I’m grateful for friends and family who show up. For the hands that lovingly prepared this food.
For the miracle of taste buds that transform simple ingredients into poetry.
For the earth that holds our blanket, the trees that shade our joy, the sky that witnesses our laughter.
The Wealth of Presence
Shaan Puri talks about building wealth, but sitting here, I understand that the ultimate wealth is this: the ability to be fully present for life’s simple offerings.
We live in a culture that promises happiness exists somewhere else—in the next achievement, the next purchase, the next destination.
But here, surrounded by the laughter of friends I know that wealth is measured in moments like these.
Turmeric and chocolate (Dewie’s cashew creamery)
The vegan ice cream melts perfectly on my tongue—not too sweet, just right. A gentle breeze carries the sound of children playing in the distance.
My sister tells a story that makes us all laugh until our sides ache.
This is abundance. This is success. This is everything we’ve been looking for while looking everywhere else.
The Authority of Now
When I speak from my Inner Authority in this moment, I know this truth: happiness is not a reward for good behavior or hard work.
It’s not something we achieve or earn. It’s something we are, something we choose, something we practice.
Every time we fully show up for life’s simple pleasures, we are practicing enlightenment.
Agnes doesn’t need permission to enjoy her treat. The trees don’t apologize for their beauty.
The sky doesn’t question its right to be blue. And in this moment, neither do I question my right to this happiness, this peace, this perfect ordinary miracle of a Saturday afternoon with friends.
Active Love in Motion
There’s something about sharing food that embodies Active Love—Phil Stutz’s tool for transforming anger into compassion.
But today, I’m using it differently. I’m sending love to every part of my life that I’ve been resisting, every dream I’ve been afraid to pursue, every version of myself I’ve been afraid to become.
As we pack up our picnic and prepare for our walk through the park, I carry this love with me.
Love for the person I was this morning, worried about things that don’t matter. Love for the person I’ll be tomorrow, probably worried about new things that won’t matter.
And infinite love for the person I am right now, learning to trust that life is always conspiring to bring me exactly what I need.
“there is no way to happiness—happiness is the way.” Today, on this blanket, under these trees, with these friends, I understand.
The way is here. The way is now. The way is this willingness to let life be exactly as perfect as it already is.
“The present moment is the only time over which we have dominion.” - Thich Nhat Hanh
And in this moment, surrounded by laughter and love and the simple miracle of being alive, I am finally, fully home.
How are you to arrive home right this second?
/ Paolo ❤️
A joyfully magic piece, Paolo! It is all the essence of living FULLY! Thank you so much for this share! Many blessings and MUCH LOVE, ~Wendy💜
What a lovely piece! So full of joy and light! Thanks for sharing.