Day two and already I’m asking myself, so how’s this being thing working out for ya?
Because when you challenge yourself to simply BE, All Of The Things start to churn and rumble and threaten to knock you off your cozy chair of stillness.
The email shows up and says exactly what you could have never conceived it would possibly say. And the words you read in black and white rise up in dark blue and steal your still and hide your light and you want to sink into the disappointment, you know? Sink into disappointment like a cozy blanket and a bowl of ice cream and a marathon of bad TV you just know will make it all better.
And then you remember this thing you’re doing — this challenge of focusing on being. And so instead of sinking into the blanket and burying your face into the ice cream and hiding behind the TV, you choose to face being.
So I choose to be still.
And in the still, I know He is God.
And I also know I’m so very disappointed but the tears don’t come yet.
I pull the car into the driveway and right there — right in front of me — is a hawk. And it’s just flying slow and steady, and as soon as it lands on a tree in my yard and perches itself in its branches, I cry.
I don’t know what it is about the hawk that finally unleashes the tears. Maybe it was actually arriving to the safety of home. Maybe it was seeing something beautiful so closely. Maybe it was watching it soar so effortlessly, gliding along on the current — just being what it was.
Just effortlessly being what it was.
Maybe the tears came because I was reminded that the hawk doesn’t cease being a hawk just because the path it wanted to fly changed. At the core, it’s still what it is. A flying, soaring, gliding creature.
And instead of stopping flying altogether, it simply chooses a new current and glides and soars along.
Just effortlessly being what it is.