in this time – the lull – we will immerse in each moment. we will not tarry in angst nor indulge in everyday worries. we will step back from all of it. we will try to quiet our minds. we will simply be in it.
it’s like a pause. only not. because we are not paused; we are breathing and moving and appreciating – all in gratitude, intentionally slower, intentionally sans complexity, intentionally sans discord.
soon enough, there will be lists of things to do, to sort, to attend to, to concern ourselves with. things to decide, things for which we need muster courage or fortitude.
but for right now, for this bit of time, there is only the lull.
if you haven’t tried it, don’t knock it. it’s a fun game and it totally makes us unplug.
next up, i think he is going to teach me how to play cribbage – which, for his family, is kind of a rite of passage. to say i have trepidation might be an understatement.
i’m thinking we need to pull out the scrabble game. or maybe yahtzee. (yes…thank you, i’d like games-i-usually-win-for-1000 please lol.)
regardless of the game, these summer evenings of late we have been seeking ways to step out of what’s happening right now. in no uncertain terms does that mean ignore what is happening. it does not mean sticking our heads in the sand. it does not mean we won’t research or ask questions or be informed or suggest ways for others to learn the truth of what is happening. it just acknowledges that we all need a break.
so, for just a little bit of time, we will step away from the merciless news, away from the computers and the phone apps, away from the polarized politics, away from the frightening thoughts of peril we are feeling, away from the ever-present question what-can-we-do. for just a little bit of time, we will step out of the present – step to the side – to a place where we might rejuvenate – rest – so that we can reinvest our energy back into this world as best we can.
a little mango sorbet and a few games of rummikub may not sound like a vacation, but it gives us a bit of headspace, something else to focus on – a breather.
there’s nothing quite like a board game at the bistro table on the deck on a hot summer night with dogga under our feet, sorbet at the ready, garden lights on – to bring us back to here and now. even for a moment.
and that, my friends, is the one thing of which we are sure.
the prayer featured on david’s INSTRUMENT OF PEACE painting: Lord, make me an instrument of your peace: where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy. (prayer of st. francis)
we were laying on the sand on a couple of old beachtowels. the feels-like was 90 plus, but we were under some trees and what appeared to be the only spot of shade on the beach. the breeze was coming off the water and we could hear the waves breaking at the shore. seagulls, the laughter of children in the distance, boats and jetskis out on the aquamarine water, you could think it was a beach resort somewhere, perhaps an island.
with my head on my small backpack, i closed my eyes and appreciated the wind, my feet still cool from walking the water’s edge, waves breaking on our legs. above us, the sky was cerulean, gorgeous cumulus clouds floating by. we couldn’t believe our good fortune, this ideal spot on the beach.
it was down the beach from where the work was taking place. there were tugboats and bulldozers and barges and boulders and giant backhoes – all to shore up the shoreline, a project by the state of illinois. interesting to watch, we were far away so as not to be intrusive. we were surprised to see jetskis zipping in and around the actual workzone; we wondered aloud about their lack of regard for the workers and safety issues.
we lost track of time as we stared at the water, watched golden retrievers fetch balls in the waves, marveled again and again about the cool sandy haven we had found. hiking back out – it was only a mile or so down the trail – it was hot again, humidity clinging to the marshland as we walked through.
back home we agreed that it was the perfect way to spend the afternoon. a little bitta beach goes a long way settling down your mind. our spot, like a guided imagery meditation, the quiet and almost-solitude, the sun filtering through the trees, the clouds dancing across the sky-canvas, and waves lapping the sand. restorative, it brought us calm.
reverse threading 