September 29, 2011

grasping sand

This week has slipped through my fingers, lost somehow in all the "shoulds."  I miss the quiet adventure of last week's "what shall we do today?"  We lived life full, but savored every drop, instead of rushing through the crazy-maze of charts and lists.

I want it back.  I want the inner calm that lets me hear the happy humming, see the laughing eyes, feel the skin so ephemerally soft, taste the fruit from eager-offering fingers, smell the smells of earth's bounty in the air.  Without the calm, all that wealth is lost, blocked out so I can think, think, think of what comes next.  I lose the gifts, or lose their strength at least, so quickly I move on.  I crave the calm.  I crave it.

But seeking it seems like grasping sand.  How can I hold it?  Vacation's just escape, no one expects it all year-round ...

... unless there's some other way to live.  Some way so slow, so easy on the head, that sunrises can stop me in my tracks to turn and watch, that breakfasts dreamed of come to pass because I'm not too tired the night before to prep them.  So "now" that "next" is what seems far away instead of urgent.

I want it back.  Can someone show me the way?

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