Stillness Feeds the Soul

Let’s be honest. The new year starts in September when school resumes. Any of us who have a student in our lives knows that. Time is measured by school semesters and grades.

This year we have a 5^th grader and a 3^rd grader. When I went to the Back-to-School Days event at my grandchildren’s elementary school, I was struck most by the 5^th graders.

My granddaughter and her friends had changed. No longer were they ‘kids’, they have developed these human personas that give an insight into the teenagers and young adults they will become.

The wisdom and life-views I see emerging take my breath away.

That’s what happens when we take the time to be still and just observe. We see things that have been right under our noses all along and we never bothered to notice.

This summer, I’ve been captivated by some of nature’s visitors right outside my door.

They come silently at night and leave beautiful silvery trails of their journeys.

I first observed two smallish slugs outside my door. My little family has evolved into almost a dozen visitors, ranging from teeny tiny new babies to fat healthy adults.

They probably owe their prosperity to the cantaloupe rinds and leftover cat food bits I put out for them.

For many weeks we had a big toad sitting outside the door catching bugs that were drawn to the light. Swamp (so named by the grandkids) has moved on. But he gave us many weeks of delight.

Nature continues to evolve outside the door. Our newest visitors are teeny tiny almost microscopic snails. They love cantaloupe also.

Some mornings, I go to Chick-fil-A for a breakfast sandwich. I’ve been doing this for years and always take a book, park under a tree, and read for an hour or so while I leisurely eat. I toss biscuit crumbs and bits of scrambled egg out the window for the birds. One particularly bossy gal, which I’ve learned is a Northern Mockingbird, chases the bigger birds away and commands the parking lot.

I don’t go every day but she’s always watching for me and has come to know my car. She flies down and sits on my side mirror waiting for me to toss her breakfast. A few weeks ago, I parked in an adjoining parking lot with more shade, and she found me there. I’ve also witnessed her with a juvenile begging for bits of egg.

For a while, I had a one-legged seagull at the breakfast smorgasbord. She would land on her one foot and hop. What effort it must take her to live life compromised, but she had found a way.

I’ve lived my whole life – decades and decades and decades – never bothering to look down. Look up. Let alone look out. I can’t believe what I’ve missed!

I challenge all of you to dedicate a moment in your day to stillness. To observing. I’d love to hear what beautiful moments you discover!