(For anyone who feels too busy)
My favorite quote is by Henry David Thoreau. "Our lives are frittered away by detail. Simplify. Simplify." These words have kept me tethered to my soul, but as of late, I'm needing to return to them. After improved health and renewed energy, I've taken on too much. It's not that I have delusions that I'm indispensible, nor can I complain that I'm unable to say no when asked to do projects or committees. I'm become so good at saying no, no one asks me any more. My problem is that I've gladly chosen my work, this blog, and a couple other creative projects, all while continuing to address complicated (though not severe) health issues for my daughter and myself. I can be a machine when it comes to attending to the details I believe each of these require. If you know any machines, you know they're not the best at being present in their relationships with those they love or even with themselves. When my fatigue isn't telling me that I've recently passed a threshold, my soul is - "How long are you going to keep this up?"..."Does something bad have to happen for you to make a change?"..."What about regret for lost time?"..."When are you going to learn to be present?"..."What do you mean, 'What does that mean'?" ...and, the dreaded..."Ahem... Your life, as your doing it at the moment, is totally being frittered away," which she knows I really hate to hear. Courtney A Brown
0 Comments
(For anyone needing to be in the moment and not 10 steps ahead)
I'd always imagined that whenever I reached the top of Skellig Michael,** I'd have an exhilarating moment up there in the blue sky with the bluer ocean below. Time would stand still with me and create an unforgettable memory. Missing from my vision was the "guide" at the bottom of Skellig Michael, who serves to instill caution/scare the hell out of visitors before directing them up the stone steps...without him. Also missing were the severe drop offs down the side of the mountain and into the ocean. Instead of barriers such as rails or ropes defacing this sacred place, there seems to be a common sense understanding that if one goes up the 600 steps and fall to their death,...well...'sometimes that's just bound to happen...such is life.' Reaching the top, I realized the only thing scarier than going up, would be coming down, when the views of the drop offs are almost impossible to avoid. The monks went up and down these steps regularly. They likely often had mist or fog on their side and could see only the step before them. I could do that. I could just look at one step at a time. I had to, because if I looked beyond or looked to see what someone else was doing, the disorienting view might throw me...such is life... Exhilaration came only after we reached the bottom. With it came a sense of peace. I had felt compelled to make it to Skellig Michael and from this sacred place, I'd received a lesson in being present - in being in the moment and in trusting that when I come upon an unstable step or I'm unsettled by a gust of wind, ..I'll deal with it...but not before. Courtney A Brown **Skellig MIchael is a steep rocky Island about an hour by boat off the coast of Ireland. Because of its remote location and the limitation on the number of visitors, the 7th century montastery at the top has been well preserved. The monastery is reached by climbing 600 stone steps laid by the monks. |
Author
"Divine" references the soul, our collective souls and the mystery of life. ArchivesCategories
All
|