The thaw.

What am I doing?
Waiting...waiting...
To move with boldness
or be moved in spite
of my coldness of heart
and slow, sluggish feet.
To move such a one
takes more wisdom than humanity owns.
The frost has hardened and awaits the thaw -
for pulse quickening and plot thickening
as this grand, incomparable story unfolds.

An old friend is waiting

The past few weeks have not seen much in the way of slowing down. I'm hoping to make some choices in the next few days for slowing down and for doing nothing. It's been weeks since I've had a day off with nothing to do. I'll have to plan my rest with more intentionality than I plan my busy schedule. The busy-ness seems to have a life of it's own and to take care of contributing to it's own immensity. Rest, on the other hand, is meek. Rest is humble. Rest is like water or air. When other things move through it, it rushes out of the way. Rest is like a friend who doesn't demand your time but is always there for you when you're ready to find them. I'm missing rest. It's been a while since we got together.

A moment of rest.

I sit waiting to go upstairs and teach my class. It's a moment to breathe. To stop and listen. I am apparently still having trouble just sitting, though, since I thought this would be a good time to blog.