
In the middle of a workday, in the middle of a typical week- I stepped outside to catch my breath, to feel the sun, to reground, recenter, and feel rooted with something bigger than the tasks at hand on my agenda for the day. Taking this kind of time to be purposeful, to have an intention and honor it (that I live into a more mindful life) this takes commitment. So at lunch, or on a break- I unplug from the devices and step outdoors, even if all I have is 5 minutes to spare.
On one particular day, I allotted a full hour for this purpose, so I went to my favorite tree and sat in the shade. I opened my senses and listened to the birdsong, felt the breeze on my skin and the wafting sunlight warming my arm through the branches of budding leaves as the wind blew so softly. I sat long enough that the insects and the birds- who quieted upon my approach, began to resume their normal activities. I sat still enough that my presence became accepted. This is when I come alive! That moment when I sense my acceptance; when I remember that I too am a part of the natural order of things.
Sometimes when I sit like this, I begin to sing. Now, I am not particularly known for my singing abilities- but, in moments like this, when joy and gratitude fill my heart- something lovely emerges. Sometimes it's just a humming, sometimes it's a chant, other times- lyrics of poetry and prayer slip from my lips as I acknowledge all the gifts in my life.
So, it was- on this particular day, in the middle of a workday, in the middle of a typical week, I found myself singing to a roadrunner as he clicked and pranced his way towards me. He'd pause and listen, tilt his head from side to side to get a better view of me. He inched his way towards my lap. I sang for him and he came so close I could have reached out and touched him with my hand. I did not- didn't need to, the connection was there. I noticed the blue and green shimmer of his skin and the iridescence of his feathers. We sat together- observing one another. He preened and stretched his wings and legs one by one. I breathed, in the moment... fully.
And, as all moments do- it passed; some bug or lizard caught his eye and instinct or hunger took over. He ran off in full demonstration of his namesake.
Comments