I watch the squirrel dance on the tree limb with daring grace and wonder at the lessons offered just outside my window.
I wonder at the squirrel’s lack of felt need to explore career options or really to set goals of any kind. The day begins and ends with a more singular focus. I wonder if the choices that flood our senses add to our experience of delight or perhaps perversely suck us dry.
For many months my energy has been sapped by not simply the knowing of my impending transition but more by the felt need to shape and control the outcomes. The decisions about timing and new directions have been consuming and altogether unnerving. Sadly I’ve allowed even the decisions to step away from the drama to be bathed in drama. I am very grateful for calm and faithful friends, by chance now in elected leadership at the church, who have been grounded and gracious as I bobble through this transition. One day at a time, more will be revealed, breathe.
And so we come to this one day that begins with a squirrel dancing on a tree branch. Perhaps in search of one last nut before the first snow fall?
As I watch the focus of the run, which is driven by instinct rather than desire or logic, my heart softens for the me that scurries to and fro. Like the squirrel outside my window, I cannot control the instinctive impulses that beat deep within my being. But perhaps unlike the squirrel, I have the luxury of reflection which is of course bane and blessing. I can use my reflection to sit in judgement of myself and others, or I can use my reflection to marvel in the wonder of our interconnections and rest in gratitude.
Like the squirrel, I have this one day. And I choose to spend it mindful of the breath that fills my being, breath that comes from a place far beyond myself and connects me with all of creation, breath that is sacred, holy, good.