Still

The older I get (and always this time of year), I realize more and more that I need to drop everything once in awhile, and just go stand in my backyard.
It’s breathtakingly gorgeous with its canopy of red and yellow and orange.
The maples are dripping in a golden hue, as the oaks linger in green awhile.
I have a nagging sense of unrest often, and seek comfort beyond these boundaries when really, if I’m quiet and still I can find what I’m looking for, right here.
Stillness.
Sabbath.
Rest.
Here.
Now.

My goodness, I rush around too much.
I live sometimes, like hurry is the only answer to the best life and people who do just one thing at a time are either lazy or in want of a dream. I talk big about walks in the woods, and quiet mornings with my chilly hands wrapped around a mug of hot peppermint tea, but of late, (and more often than not), I’m on the phone talking to one person, and texting three others, while curling my hair, doing a wall sit, and quick cramming in a load of laundry… and then wondering why I feel forgetful, distant, disconnected, discontent.

I have good intentions.
I start out the week doing what I say, and then things unravel quickly, at break neck speeds. Creative obsessions takeover.
I’m upside down with the hours and minutes, trying to milk each one for every drop, yet standing knock kneed; paralyzed, getting nothing done, showcasing epic fails.
I truly do live in excellent rhythms most of the time,
but it’s easy for me to slip into a con game.
I talk big and don’t deliver.
To and for others, I do alright.
But to myself and the pretty little goal lists I make, I trim the edges, skip over what matters, blow off commitments.
Who’s gonna know? Only me.
I coach people with successful tips for the “life worth having” and then forget to do the very practices I “live by” and swear to others will change their lives.
I heard a preacher say once, “If you want to become an expert on a subject, commit to teaching it,” Oh, how true that is.

So, I learn and share and post and pray with all the wonderful people who come to me for tips and support, yet sorely miss the mark for myself.
I’m learning as I teach you, it’s helping me teach me.
Even the whole blog writing thing… It’s been forever since I sat still long enough to do the very thing that makes my soul soar, but I portray sometimes like “I’m a writer” and then resist the actual stroke of the pen.
I’m a phony one moment and a girl scout the next.

So today, I literally just looked out my window in a rare and unscheduled moment, dropped everything, saw the autumn sun peeking through the trees, and rushed out there to stand in the stillness… the unadulterated and pure silence of the woods that is my very backyard.
Right between the eyes, I was struck deep with the profound idea that everything I need is right here, at least for now.
So glad I didn’t miss it.
At least not this time.