February 25, 2018 (day 12)
Just when I thought to myself last night, “Why am I doing this? This is pointless, my heart isn’t in the right place. I am only checking the box,” this morning there was my beautiful “Hello Barbie” phone call as I like to say. A timely message about subtle change, expectations, losing motivation with the novelty of our Lenten practice commitments. We are technically ten days in and the road ahead feels long. I have never run a marathon and probably won’t, but not even a quarter of the way there is a point when I begin to think, “This is a bad idea and I don’t know that I want to or will stick with it.” Oh but let’s be very real and honest here. I have publicly made this commitment and I’m not throwing in the towel just yet. Looking good can be a very sideways and stumbling character defect of mine, and yet there are moments that it is the single thread that keeps the keyboard going. The sermon this morning also included a gorgeous story about a lighthouse and how it needed to be moved or would be in danger of falling into the ocean. And yet it was not built for sudden and harsh movement, so it was raised and then moved to a new spot less than a quarter of an inch at a time. Up and over, less than .25 inches at a time with periods of rest in between to settle. Oh my. Fascinating and also excruciating for an immediate gratification personality like myself. And yet makes such sense.
The saying goes something like, “the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” Or, “patience, grasshopper.” Somehow this morning, I caught a very quick glimpse of the bigger picture. One day, one word, one inspiration, one photo, one thought at a time….I didn’t know where any of this was leading last year, so how do I think I might already know where it will this orbit around the sun and figurative wandering into the desert? (I always want to add an s to the middle of that word.)
I took this photo last week when some snow fell in Boston. The morning tree limbs were coated in snow and the sun was out, bluebird sky day. This tree sits outside of my office and bedroom windows…we are on the third floor of our building and I enjoy the perch up above the ground. It is a tree I mostly notice when I am inside looking out. Pausing, writing, reading, wondering about the weather, looking for the blue jays in the nest. It seems wise. I walk by it sometimes (we have two entrances to our building). And even when I do walk by, I don’t give it much or any thought. I might in the fall as the leaves change, but mostly I am thinking about where I am going or what the day holds. It is a grand tree.
How can it be grand in one moment and practically invisible in the next? “It’s only a tree,” a voice in my head chimes. “There are many…” And yet when I decided to snap the photo it was worthy of the effort, me noticing its wonder and the elements on and around it. Which is why I’ll just keep showing up for this practice, commitment, exercise. For glimpses of the full screen canvas of whatever we are weaving and the new landscape I am shifting to. If only with new eyes, open heart, deeper understanding.
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