Here comes September.
Can the year be beginning its last stretch already?
Trees are turning, and the mornings host cooler air. It doesn’t seem to be time for this, the shift of seasons.
And yet, there is always time for everything. Faithfully, change begins and ends and cycles through. I take my time getting ready for the day, linger longer than I should on my cool down walk after my run is finished. I watch the boats waver in the wind heading back towards the marina after an early start to find the fish. I listen to the whoosh of waves folding into themselves as they surge to shore. I watch the yellow wildflowers wave their arms on thin and nimble stalks between wild grass. In these moments, with sweat condensed from humidity and breath returning regular to my lungs, all is as it should be.
There is no need for speed.
//What’s the rush?
Slow. Such cadence in the quiet, serene. No time passes at all.
Rain pours down the pane. We haven’t seen skies like this in years. Or maybe I just don’t remember it. This is, after all, the first time I’ve been home to stay in four years. The world here knows rain; perhaps it is just I who has forgotten.
Thunder rolls, not angry or vicious. It just makes its presence known.
What’s the line in the that Elvis song? Only fools rush in…
Frantic rushing washes away thought, intention, calculation that releases best laid plans.
In the way of life, it’s best to take it slow. Unfettered, open to unlearning what has tied me up mind and spirit in unhealthy ways. Relax. Rest, embrace.
I am a caterpillar weaving my chrysalis, snug and steady in subtle transformation. I am not the same person as I was just one year ago. I look back and see the anxiety that plagued, threatened to destroy. But I held fast in release to the ways of Him who had my best in store.//
Live languid. Enjoy the longer time around the harbor. See the small things and note fine details. Detach, revel in newly given freedom of heart. Do not close your eyes. There’s so much that may be missed. Do not wish away this life on thoughts that may never come to pass.
See the mist turn color and be amazed.
Continuing my attempt at the Five Minute Friday weekly writing challenge. Five minutes to write on the assigned topic. Raw and unedited. (Yikes!) This week’s topic: Rush. // symbolizes where five minutes started and/or stopped.
Looking for something in particular?
Explore the archive! Organized for ease by category and year.