Dear Friends,
It seems ages since I’ve written to you. I’ve missed being in touch. Our hearts break at the suffering of those caught in war zones or the inescapable catastrophes of our earthly home. They remind us we are deeply connected, whether those ties are subtle or loud, new or ancient. We live within circles of circles. It is a very great wonder to me.
The last several months have made this so clear. Family and friend visits, my dear friend Carol Drexler’s long, poignant process of closing down her life of 92 years, a challenging chapter in my own inner healing, lousy summer weather (what summer, we islanders ask each other?) and then, no surprise, a second visit from Covid. And now, finally, it is quiet. The summer folks and visitors have returned to their other homes. The lake is quiet, the explosion of yellows and reds is spent, and each morning, there are fewer leaves in the canopy to block the weakening light.
What is a weary, newly blessed 80 year old to do? Rest, of course, surrender to rest. It took me a while to first give myself permission to stop, and then, even more time for me to agree to the invitation. Now, for a week, I’ve been exploring this very new territory. It’s pretty simple, actually, and I’m embarrassed that it took eight decades to give it a try. I’m abstaining from the “Should’s.” I allow myself the freedom to do anything I’m drawn to do, especially when that center in the middle of my body says, “oh, yes, let’s do that, that would feel good right now.” And so, I do. I’m not skilled at this, for sure. I’m hard wired to respond to obligations and responsibilities to others. I see this will take practice, and I’m hoping for patience. It seems time.
So, give it a try, dear folks. Push aside the Doing for a little while, and enter into the vastness of Being. Look at the sky, Leave your earbuds at home and take a little walk. Lie down and listen to an old favorite CD. Let heart and mind wander off leash for a spell. Solitude and silence are the finest gifts, these days. And rest.
I’ll close with a photo of my teacher in these new ways of living in our troubled world.
With all good wishes as we turn to the early signs of winter, coming soon, I promise!
Penny
Oh Penny, I so love this invitation. I have been feeling this call from within to rest, to heeding what I feel like doing. For the most part, I have been resisting, unpracticed as I am in such surrender to not doing (or at least the illusion of not doing).
Your invitation reminds me of Rumi’s:
“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I'll meet you there. When the soul lies down in that grass, the world is too full to talk about.”
Dear Penny, I’ll meet you there. 💙💙
I love this - I can't do it, but the pup sure can! Actually, I lean more and more in this direction. Easier during breaks from school, for sure! Thanks for the reminder :-)