A Moment
This morning I had my first quiet time in a month. At first I felt like a sponge, soaking it up and craving more and more. And that taking in felt so good because I have been doing nothing but sending out. I could feel myself filling up ... with calm, with silence, with ease. I lingered on the moment when I felt "full up" and then let whatever else was coming to me wash down over me, a slow-moving current.
I felt baptized by peace.
I have felt strongly that I would get through the current challenges to my body. That my spirit was strong enough to do what I am not supposed to be able to do. To simply "get through." But I have been in such a place of ricocheting thoughts and activities that I have not lived with that; I have only been living with the individual, stressful moments. I let myself be overwhelmed by them.
This morning I am reminded that I'll get "there" by the simple act of stillness. That this first morning in a long while to simply sit, simply be, simply celebrate ... is the key to it all.
And always is. We can chose what we are overwhelmed by. What takes priority. What is washed away.
This morning I stood under the "bones" of the gazebo on the deck. After P&P and the boys came yesterday and did all the outdoor chores I could not do, including taking the cover off of the gazebo. All Summer standing there has been a place of shelter. A cool and dark cocoon in the sunlight. This morning, standing in that place that had become a refuge "from" ... with its metal spines arching up and over me, open to the gray skies ... I stood in a temple, with the fresco of the world painted on the sky overhead. Being there was no longer an act of keeping out. It had become an act of opening up.
This past week has been a week of support and kindness from those I love. From voices on the phone, to the words of loving e-mails, to the offers of help with tasks big and small.
I chose to continue to be overwhelmed ... but to let it be with love and friendship.
In my new back-yard temple which opens to the sky ... I will stand and feel the Autumn sky lower and wash over me.
And I will, as I always am, as we always are, be blessed.
I felt baptized by peace.
I have felt strongly that I would get through the current challenges to my body. That my spirit was strong enough to do what I am not supposed to be able to do. To simply "get through." But I have been in such a place of ricocheting thoughts and activities that I have not lived with that; I have only been living with the individual, stressful moments. I let myself be overwhelmed by them.
This morning I am reminded that I'll get "there" by the simple act of stillness. That this first morning in a long while to simply sit, simply be, simply celebrate ... is the key to it all.
And always is. We can chose what we are overwhelmed by. What takes priority. What is washed away.
This morning I stood under the "bones" of the gazebo on the deck. After P&P and the boys came yesterday and did all the outdoor chores I could not do, including taking the cover off of the gazebo. All Summer standing there has been a place of shelter. A cool and dark cocoon in the sunlight. This morning, standing in that place that had become a refuge "from" ... with its metal spines arching up and over me, open to the gray skies ... I stood in a temple, with the fresco of the world painted on the sky overhead. Being there was no longer an act of keeping out. It had become an act of opening up.
This past week has been a week of support and kindness from those I love. From voices on the phone, to the words of loving e-mails, to the offers of help with tasks big and small.
I chose to continue to be overwhelmed ... but to let it be with love and friendship.
In my new back-yard temple which opens to the sky ... I will stand and feel the Autumn sky lower and wash over me.
And I will, as I always am, as we always are, be blessed.