Morning Musings

As I stood in the front yard yesterday evening, admittedly a little frazzled, I looked up and saw the gorgeous sky.  Almost immediately I calmed.

All those lists running through my head:  the things I still needed to do that day, the things that I was neglecting, even, the things I had failed to do, slipped away into the quiet.

I realized that everything will happen in its own good time.  That doesn't mean I should abandon everything; some organization and planning and energy are always necessary.  But it does mean that there is time for rest, time for sunsets and sunrises, for busy-ness and repose. 

There have been days I look at the mail piling up on my desk and chastise myself.  But then I remind myself that I do something every day.  I meet the immediate needs.  Then of course my mind moves on to the other things I am not doing:   the blog post I want to write about a book that has helped me to coalesce so many random thoughts, the blog post that doesn't want to be written — yet.  I look at my distracted mind and tell myself to focus.

But why?  A little lack of clarity is beneficial. And time with my mom is precious.  Truly would I rather be sitting at my desk muddling over words when I can sit with my mom, chatting, knitting, just enjoying her company?  How many times do I get to spend 3 weeks with my mother anymore?  Not often. Admittedly I don't visit for long stretches of time, And this is only her second visit here in 3 years, Actually probably only her second visit in over a decade.  How much time is lost doing things that hold no value in our hearts, sacrificing attention to those we love for things that truly do not matter? Far too much I fear. And how do we know what matters if we do not take time to rest, to listen, to know our own hearts?

To everything there is a season.  To every day there is a dawn and a sunset, a time for doing and a time for resting.  And increasingly I have come to accept that part of myself that will cast things and projects aside for people: for what is the measure of our lives beyond our touch on the lives of others?

It is morning again.  I have another day with mom, the first day in this last week of Mom's visit, and once again my priorities are shifting, thoughts left unfinished.  But then nothing is truly finished as long as there is life to be lived.