Early Sunday morning. No color in the morning sky but a pale
shade of gray. This blank canvas is the
backdrop to bare trees, naked as they wait for the coming storm. The dark branches are still and sturdy. A welcome respite, for the birds that are
flying furiously to find food before the snow begins to fall. Squirrels chatter
as they compete for the feeder filled with hearty sunflower seeds from seasons
past and I wait. I wait in morning stillness, filled with warmth, like the
morning fire stoked up and warming the hearth stone for the day to come.
This
morning time is nudging me to be still, live still and breath in
stillness. Whenever this winter's cold
stops me in my tracks it also pushes, like a hard, relentless wind, and makes me stop and reflect back over the year. I hear it telling me to rest and slow down. Scurrying about, it's easy to lose site of the spirit that
comes in this very moment, to each and every one of us this season, only if we
let it. The dance of balance to be in the moment versus time to reflect.
Yesterday, my heart was filled with spirit. A plentiful day that brimmed with discovering
creations, made by someone else's hands.
Creations that all started, when a spark from some distant, swirling
inspiration touched and moved them to create.
From an open heart into creative hands, transformed to beauty, only to
be let go, into my hands, for me to give, from my heart.
Real talk and spending the day with a
great friend made ever fleeting time, last and stick and create a lovely memory to be held this whole holiday season and in ones to come. That to me was living in the moment for the whole day. This was the true
gift. The one that feeds my soul,
inspires and helps me know everything is all right. The truest gift, a real gift, the perfect
gift.
