She caught me by surprise as I turned west on my morning stroll: her huge White balloon-face radiating just above the mountain. What was there to do but stop? I must have cut quite a figure: Slippers with a big hole in the left toe (my larger foot), ankle-length nightgown, a tough carhart jacket, then the orange hunter's cap on top for warmth! The yard is private for the most part, so no one observed me inhaling the cool moonlight, and watching the mountain slowly absorb our Ruler of the Tides.
I often forget the planet, the moon,the stars, the sun--they're all in motion with NO STOPPING. Stopping is an old verbal illusion we humans invented when the cosmic activity all around and through us dawned in our brains. One of us said to the other, "Let's invent stop, so we can rest." Or maybe God invented stop in the form of resting on the seventh day!
Stopping is an act of rebellion, especially during this season. It means taking control of one's day, hour, moment; aren't we all supposed to feel out of control with all the details of December? I make it a point to stop dead still every day when the conditions are right: sitting in the car before entering a store, hiding in my little office, sitting just now at the computer. I ask "who's home? Anybody there?" The silence is sweet, for it requires only my presence, not my productivity.
May Her Fullness Rest Upon You, as you stop. If thankfulness arises, all the better!
1 comment:
Good luck with your new blog! And thanks for visiting mine and the nice comment. I do a variety of nature topics with a few pics and a story to go with them. I am a little familiar with Hamilton having stopped at McD's there for lunch on the way to my favorite trout fishing hangout in the world- Sam Billings campground near Darby!
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