I used to have this appetite for my life, and it’s just gone. I want to go someplace where I can marvel at something. Elizabeth Gilbert
It’s interesting that whenever I suggest “pause” in any retreat or workshop, people automatically say, “Great! Count me in! Now tell me the five steps!”
I understand that, because there’s a part of each of us that says, “Hey, if we’re going to pause, we want to be good at it!”
It makes me smile, how we turn pausing or “be”-ing or rest or Sabbath into a project or some kind of contest. Today I had a long list, and was making headway, accomplishing a lot. . .and then, an interruption. . .now I have to practice the material from my own retreat! Deep breath. Slow down. Be present. Racing (in my car) to the “interruption,” I passed a newborn–still spotted fawn–standing on the edge of the road. The fawn’s liquid black eyes said it all, “Why is he in such a hurry?”
I slowed.
I laughed.
I thanked the fawn, and gave myself permission to embrace the moment, interruption and all. . .
(The reference to the “retreat,” is the e-course I am leading at Spirituality and Practice. There’s still time to register. You will receive all of the materials.)
The bud
stands for all things,
even for those things that don’t flower,
for everything flowers, from within, of self-blessing;
though sometimes it is necessary
to reteach a thing its loveliness,
to put a hand on its brow
of the flower
and retell it in words and in touch
it is lovely
until it flowers again from within, of self-blessing. . .
Galway Kinnell
4 Comments
How often it is that God takes my schedule and all my planned steps then turns them upside-down. When I’ve planned a straight course God weaves me through the twists and turns that meander through life and makes me to pause and see my experiences in the light of the moment. Thank you for this reminder to slow down, see life and enjoy the moments that we’re in.
This meditation struck a chord with me. It reminded me of a time a few weeks back, as I was preparing to travel “back home” to my father’s 80th birthday celebration. I have not lived in my hometown for many, many years, and as time has gone by, it’s become apparent to me why I continue to live “far afield” (my husband’s and my own career and life goals notwithstanding). I sat anticipating, over my lunch break one day at work, all the things that might go wrong in altercations with various family members, siblings, my mother, whomever, regarding political events, world events and the like. As I sat contemplating and catastrophizing these things in my mind, I noticed all of the sudden, a duck flutter out of the pond near which I was sitting, and light onto a different section of water. In that moment, a certain revelation hit me: that duck had not been concerned about what I thought about it, not concerned about what it was going to do or be in my presence, he was just being him (or her!)self in that moment. Perhaps, I thought, there was a lesson for me in that concept: maybe everyone else is not as concerned about what I think or feel on these topics, and if they are, then what will be, will be. Your story of the sighting of the spotted fawn reminded me of that moment, Terry. How wonderfully simple are the lessons that come out of seemingly nowhere, and yet so profound.
Barbara. . .great story about the duck. . .and isn’t it interesting that our minds fill with all the things that might go “wrong?” I know that for me much of my worry is predicated on some assumption that I can or need to control lives or events around me. Worry makes me the CEO of the universe. . .No wonder I get tired. . .
You pinpointed the exact notion that too often plagues many of us, I think; in my case, I assumed that what was the top of my list of things that requires people’s attention in this world–political maneuverings, mistreatment of the disadvantaged and disenfranchised, disenfranchisement of the already disenfranchised– and of course my TAKE on such things, would certainly be the same things that were keeping others at attention as well. As it turned out, the weekend was actually and only about the celebration of my father’s birthday (go figure, huh?). I deliberately kept my trip brief (a day and a half) at least in part to avoid “too much of a good thing” and fall into the trap of idle meanderings which would have certainly led to a disagreement or three; I did, in fact, see some openings where I could have probably started a discourse as to my opinions and beliefs on any and everything but such was not the point of my visit and all my pre-trip musings did nothing more than keep ME up at night in the weeks prior to my travels. As opposed to CEO of the universe, perhaps I should assume the duties of demolition expert of mountains that were once molehills. Thanks again for a great, very pertinent meditation. Looking forward to tomorrow’s ‘Sabbath Moment’. Peace