Skip to main content

Taking Time to Breathe



Much of the time the busyness of life seems to keep us in a constant whirl of activities and expectations; taking away our joy and appreciation for what is truly important.

Breathe: to pause and rest before continuing 
(Merriam-Webster)

When was the last time I paused to rest?  During last week’s hike it was often on the uphill climb; not at all going down.  This makes perfect sense.  It takes more work and effort to go uphill; requiring the energy gained from pausing.  In today’s writing class I wrote a simple phrase:

The pressures of life cook one’s soul

A couple of thoughts come to mind, both related to the cooking process.  First, if one is “cooked” he might be totally spent; much like leaving the pot roast in the oven to long.   The meat is dried out and not appetizing.   The second contemplation is how cooking creates something wonderfully delicious.  The same pot roast, juicy, succulent and surrounded by root vegetables perfectly caramelized.  The same meal:  one delectable, one needing to be tossed in the bin.

So, how are the pressures of life cooking your soul?  Are you climbing uphill and in need of a rest, or is it easy going?  Pause, rest and then continue to breathe.

Breathing in spite of life’s pressures ~ Missy

Comments

  1. I took time to breathe today..went on a tour of greenhouses and flowers and smelled the sweetness of it all..

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

the lights just clicked on

The lights just clicked on. The ones we hung outside last Friday when the day was bright and fair. Today it’s cloudy and cold. It’s dark earlier. So, the lights just clicked on.

It’s pretty. If I squint, the white fairy lights look like tiny gleaming stars. Bordering on gazing at an inky sky, dotted and specked with minute bursts of light.

Two Moravian stars with multi-faceted points hang. They sway with the breeze. Moving to the wind’s breathed music. They reflect in the open window; mirror images, star duets.

Santa arrives in a helicopter descent at the Old Mill. He sets up shop, elves and reindeer to join later. High fives, and shy giggles, the kids approach. Innocent, bright eyes wide open and hopeful.

It’s a magical and expectant season. It’s Advent.

Advent – the arrival of the awaited One – is more than my lights clicking on, the Moravian stars dancing and my grandkids’ wonder at the arrival of Santa. I love each of these experiences and the specialness of the memories.

A baby sh…

wild world: facing the wind

The page furled in the wind, several, actually as I struggled to control my notebook. The wind was crisp; it blew hair out of my face. A cerulean sky hung over head; the sun casting low.

I watered my potted plants, perhaps for the last time until spring. Snow’s in the 10 day forecast, which seems odd since only a few days ago it was 70 degrees.

Birds were chirping, squirrels doing their thing. They know the season is changing to the dormant time where food will be scarce and only the flimsy bare branches will shelter.

It’s November. We’re on the cusp of winter. Temperatures will be harsh. My thoughts turn to the outside folks; those who live in tents or boxes, occasionally scoring a room at the local shelter. It’s easier…when the weather is fair, but never easy.

Cat Stevens’ “Wild World” blares rather loudly from my Sonos. Two lines rattle for attention:

a lot of nice things turn bad out there you know I’ve seen a lot of what the world can do

Things are wild out there – the wind messi…

tradition or rhythm and christmas walks

How long does it take to make a tradition? Is there some sort of parameter, or is it something that just comes to be? By definition, a tradition is something passed down from generation to generation, but how are new ones established? I mean, they have to have a beginning.

That little diatribe to say, my cute man and I have a new Christmas morning rhythm, since tradition might be too strong of a word.



After coffee, breakfast and the Christmas story, we donned our hikers and headed out to walk the trail at Shevlin Park. Others had the same idea as we met families large and small; folks out for a run both with and without furry friends in tow. The mood was congenial with Holiday greetings. I made it my mission to say “Merry Christmas” to everyone we met.

The day was stellar, cold, crisp air, ice crystals sparkling in the late morning sunshine.



The beginning of the trail is enclosed in bare-branched trees that only a couple months ago were ensconced in iridescent golden coins that quaked …