We all need a place to catch our breath: a physical surrounding that shines the special in the ordinary; a simple abode to inhale gratitude deeply and exhale peace passionately.
Out front, I hear the birds and know that the sun is waking. The new day’s light illuminates opportunity, even if that opportunity doesn’t seem grand or mean great accomplishment. (Sometimes it is stillness for 10 whole minutes, free of interruption and discord.)
Though, I’m not quite sure a completely quiet place exists…while my little section of the human world is calm and all is well, I’m surrounded by the banter of wild geese, one in particular, really pushing an agenda. I imagine she is a mom too, expressing an important message, repeating herself to make sure it sinks in. I get it. It’s exhausting getting your brood in line and ready for the day, isn’t it, dear one?
Though, I’m not quite sure the world is ever entirely at peace, all at once. There will always be pain, suffering, grief, sadness. To believe it doesn’t exist or pretend its not there, or worse yet, think that it isn’t important because it doesn’t happen to us, is stupid, hurtful, naïve.
I’m changing my frame of mind, these days, when I stop and catch my breath. I regroup and reframe what is immediately or urgently in front of me, and I try to reflect on the world at large; on those hurting, grieving, persevering on paths unknown to me. What could my little moment of meditation offer, what good is in my little prayer?
There is One far more powerful than me directing, synchronizing, choreographing these quiet moments. My retreat to this meditation nook withholds such power, here I plug in to a Divine Energy. I catch my breath and fuel my Spirit. And I have courage to press on.