Paying Attention

This time of year, I often walk our dog at a state park a few minutes from our home.
I walk at my own pace.
She can run and sniff without my pulling her along on a leash.
Or her pulling me.
On our last several walks, I have been telling myself to pay attention.
To pay attention to the changing color of the leaves.
And, as the leaves fall, to pay attention to how the trees blend together on the hillside.
To pay attention to the reflection on the water.
And to the coolness of the fall breeze and the warmth of the fall sun.
To pay attention to my own breathing.
And to make sure I take breaths which fill and stretch my lungs.
Most of the time I am there alone.
I can take my time.
I can stop and look.
I can soak up the silence as well as the sun.

Paying attention in this way is practice for those other moments.
Those moments when I am not alone.
Those moments when my chest tightens.
Those moments when the noise drowns out the silence.
Because it is in these moments I most need to be able to pay attention.

Sometimes…

Sometimes I just need a quiet space.
Long after everyone else has gone home.
No one else around me.
Dog asleep beneath my desk.
No email.
No phone.
Just me.
Trying to put words on a page.
The old fashioned way with pen and paper.
Reaching back through the day
Pushing my way through a crack in my everyday amour
To see beneath the surface
Of what you see when you see me
Of what I see when I look in the mirror.
To catch a glimpse for a moment
Of who and how I really am.

Watching

Tonight I sat on the front porch.
Just watching.
Until all I could see
Was the outline of the trees
Against the night sky.

Learning to Sit Still…Again

I am worn out from doing.
The right things.
The needed things.
The important things I remind others to do.
I am worn out from doing all the things on my To Do list
Written down there so I won’t forget.

Tonight
Sitting in the backyard
Watching while the darkness
Crept into the space left empty by the receding light
I realized I need to learn to sit still…again.
To watch.
To listen.
To be quiet long enough
To be.

Friday Night

This evening I sat on the porch reading
Until the words on the page disappeared with the disappearing light.
Then I just sat.
And watched.
As the light retreated
Until all that was left was the dark outline of the tree
Against the darkening sky.

Advent 2016 – Day 16

I need a snow day.
Or, two.
With enough snow to force everyone to stay home and to focus on a fire in the fireplace or making a snowman in the backyard. Then, I can put on my boots and walk through the quiet of the Village. Across the driveway from our house to the church and have the whole place to myself.
To light the Advent candles and to sit for a moment in the sanctuary.
To read and to think about the texts for Sunday and for Christmas Eve.
No telephone calls.
No email notifications.
Only the solitude and the quiet.
Pulling me deeper.
And, gently turning me in the direction of Christmas.

We Get There By Walking