my desk this summer it seems….

I am starting to see a pattern.

In life there are seasons of action, seasons of growth and seasons of waiting.

There are also seasons of constant inturruptions.

I would say that for me, 2020 thus far has been all of that and more.

Most recently, a season of waiting and constant interruptions.

A laptop needing up to two weeks of service, a trip to the E.R., recovering from Kidney stones, scheduling major life changes and appointments (all good changes), and least of all, a cat who most certainly wants to sleep on ones work chair at all hours of the day while one tries to make a borrowed laptop fill the void. (if you do creative work, you know that software, subscription services are all part of ones daily routine. Trying to make do without those programs is a bit of a slog. )

It can feel infuriating when you realize time is being wasted while you wait for things to resolve. A kidney stone to pass, pain to recede, paperwork to go through, a laptop to be fixed and yes, even a house tiger to admit defeat in who gets the chair as she ‘slomps’ away with a chirp of dissapointment.

It can also be an opportunity.

To enjoy life, to think more, and connect with both colleagues and friends alike in a new way.

Things I have enjoyed in the waiting:

Reading. Having the library open again has given me new reading enjoyment and movtivation.

Routine Skype calls | A colleague / good friend of mine started a bi weekly Monday chat routine and it has been huge in helping us suss out our creative energy, thoughts and plans for our projects.

Reordering my thoughts | Forced time away, even if scattered has a way of expanding the mind outside the box. Re-imagining what is, to what could be.

So while I am impatiently waiting for my own laptop, for our life changes to occur and in a time when so much seems to be ‘up in the air’, I will be working on my ability to enjoy the process of the waiting and find growth here. Be it in a hospital bed, at the beach, or simply… admitting defeat and letting the house tiger sleep peacefully while I drag the old borrowed laptop to the floor by the rotating fan.

Snow falling has a sound.

Have you heard it?

A soft little whisper that doesn’t have an end.

To hear snow, you have to remain still, quiet your breath and tune out the shifts in the air.

There it is.

Amidst the shifting and adjusting of all that is living, there is the soft whisper of snow covering and giving the world a soft lullaby to rest by.

Hush.

This winter has many possible twists and turns and instead of wondering how it will all go down, I am starting to get still. To ground myself on the snow-laden earth and listen. Focusing on my heartbeat. Where does it quicken? How does it beat when I do this, or when I do that? Instead of rushing forward, I am listening and feeling. Letting the snow cover me and give me what I need for each bend in the road.

The snow covers those who are still and it is warm underneath it until the time comes for you to move.

And when the moves are clear to you, you will emerge from the snow with clarity and the snow will glisten like gold in the sun.