A couple of times a week I head out to the woods for my hike. I do it for the exercise, but I equally make the trek out there to be quiet, watch the trees, sunlight, little animals and other surprises along the way.
I almost never take my phone with me because I have a habit of chatting with people I love, texting something that I just remembered I needed to respond to or even listening to a podcast. While none of those things are bad in and of themselves, they distract me from being quiet and letting my mind wander and follow my curiosity about things that are interesting or close to my heart.
The one thing about not bringing my phone is that I don’t have it to take photos of the things along my walk that are beautiful, inspiring or capture a feeling of peace, joy or gratitude. So I capture the image in my mind and hope that it stays.
I have always had a love-hate relationship with cameras, especially taking photos of my children. Sometimes we are so busy taking photos that we actually miss what’s happening in the moment and don’t fully take in the delight. Yet there is nothing like going through old photos and finding one that takes you back to the moment and feeling filled with joy and love like you were back in that time.
A couple of weeks ago as I headed into the woods on the same path I’ve been taking for 15 years, I crossed a small bridge over a river. I usually pause and take in the sound of the water, the rays of sunlight, the ducks that are either flowing with or against the river.
I wish I had my camera this one day. There was a duck close to the bank of the river that was caught in the upstream and downstream; kind of circling around.
This image of the duck reminded me of life . . . sometimes we go with the flow of life . . . sometimes we go against the flow of life and sometimes we are in the middle of life, not knowing exactly what to do.
I notice when I am in the flow of life even when it’s hard, there’s an ease, acceptance and trust in something bigger than me. I also know when I resist life that I want it to be different; I don’t want to feel a certain way that is most often uncomfortable. And when I am right in the middle, I have one foot in acceptance and one foot in resistance; not knowing or trusting.
And so I stay for as long as I need to until I do know.
A teacher of mine said that confusion is only an indication that we don’t know yet. Yet, we live in a time that knowing is at our finger tips. The mind is praised for getting it right or having an answer . . . quickly.
But sometimes knowing . . . a deeper knowing takes time. It takes quiet . . . trust . . . patience.
I wasn’t taught to take my time, to trust the process or to have patience with the journey itself.
And so here we all are on this journey of life together . . . sometimes going with the flow . . . sometimes resisting and sometimes resting somewhere in the middle until we know.
A song for you that I LOVE!
Many blessings,
