Daily BB Meditations — May 17
The First Ball Field Hot Dog
It wasn’t gourmet.
It wasn’t perfect.
But the first hot dog of the season, wrapped in foil and soggy from steam, tasted like a feast.
It wasn’t the food itself —
it was where you were, who you were with,
the slow luxury of not rushing anywhere.
Buddhism
Happiness rarely lives inside the thing itself.
It blooms from the presence we bring to the smallest experien…
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