Thursday, September 3, 2009
A Moment's Gift
Such fatigue I feel. This monthly cycle’s “reset” time has drained me so. I sit in this quiet room, gentle strains of Barry Phillips' Cello sedate me further, and I enjoy deep, slow sips of tea laced with lavender.
Simply sit . . .
And it is good.
I seem to have gently acquired the gift of being good to myself. Where once I picked up a stick and drove myself onward until collapse, I now see value in slow-moving times. I label them equally productive and find a special fruit therein.
Prone to driving lists and endless stacks of “musts,” I rebel placidly and float through a brambled tangle, past a bank of snags, and under a bridge to a peaceful pool with only the moment as my companion.
My needy tasks of the day do not melt away, but instead stand at bay as I linger just this much more . . . For I know a freshened soul scours pots with joy and sweeps away crumbs with a dancing step when she feels filled with peace. The peace in knowing life has been presented to her in a series of tiny packages, strung together like pearls, one moment after the other, wreathes her to advantage.
This peaceful pause sparkles like a diamond and I cannot resist its allure.
Since the dishes shall surely remain as they are, and the hummingbird at play in my potted pelargonium shows every inclination of vanishing in an eyelash’s flicker, I shall stay put for just one more good moment.
Aaaaaahhhhh . . . it feels so good to receive a gift.