Well, we’ve been back from our trip up and down the coast for a week now and it almost feels like it never happened, like it was just a dream. Isn’t that how it always goes? Fortunately, I do have a souvenir that I hope I can hold onto for a while: the resolve to walk more slowly through my life.
About four days into our vacation I realized that recently I had been so caught up in the rushing and stressing of daily life that I had detached myself from many of the things that make my life joyful and fun. This week back at home has been about actively constructing ways to bring those back into my busy life — I’ve created a space where I can leave my art supplies set up so they are much easier to dive into, even for 15 minutes; I’ve pledged to explore nearby nature, places close by where I can spread out a blanket and read for an afternoon (yesterday it was the cactus garden at Stanford); and, most importantly, I’ve taken this poem to heart:
Walk Slowly by Danna Faulds
It only takes a reminder to breathe,
a moment to be still, and just like that,
something in me settles, softens, makes
space for imperfection. The harsh voice
of judgment drops to a whisper and I
remember again that life isn’t a relay
race; that we will all cross the finish
line; that waking up to life is what we
were born for. As many times as I
forget, catch myself charging forward
without even knowing where I’m going,
that many times I can make the choice
to stop, to breathe, and be, and walk
slowly into the mystery.
I hope each of you are consciously taking the time to reflect, rest, and unwind this summer.
P.S. I took this picture in La Conner, Washington, a little after sunrise. Jealous?