I woke early this morning to chill in the air. Still cooling off after the heat of the last few weeks, I had the window open a bit for fresh air, but also to listen to the waking birds. I had energy for the day but resisted getting up as the birds were engaged in chirpy conversation. There is something that brings great joy and peace to my heart listening to the sounds of nature, especially in the hours of dawn.
When I did rise, there was fog. It shrouded everything outside the windows. Later as I drove to work, the fog shrouded everything in sight. There is a mystery about the fog. Somehow when the details are less available, I see better. Or at least the opportunity is there.
This morning’s fog allowed me to set aside the craziness of the world. If only for a bit. I breathed easier without the noise of it all. I wish it had been a biking commute day on the river trail, that would have been a soulful experience, but even so, the drive reminded me of the importance of focusing on the proximate and what needed doing now. Pay attention to what’s happening close at hand, not far off.
And as often happens with me when the fog settles in, I go to the spiritual core and am filled with such wonder and gratitude for life. Does that happen to you? Maybe with fog or perhaps some other way? We should talk sometime…
There are so many things to be thankful for. Near the top of my list is this church and so many interesting, wonderful, and caring people. What a community! And I am grateful. Just today, I listened to an elder, visited with a small group, ate lunch with a congregant, worked with staff, talked with ministers, and had meetings to help solve building issues. All that and regular work too, made for a good day. In a lot of the stories of the day, I heard people taking care of each other, listening with their ears and heart, and offering help as needed. Sprinkled in the mix was wisdom, imagination, and love. Wow. What a gift community is. I’m glad you are here.
Now the day is ending and the fog has long lifted. But my gratitude remains. And I’m sure the birds will sing tomorrow morning as well. Life is good.