Remembering to Be

It hangs there, all pristine and fairy-like, 

pausing between what was and what is about to be.   

And this is me.

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I am awake when I should be sleeping because I don't have a switch to turn off my brain.  It will be a few days, I think, before I am really 'away', even though my body leaves tomorrow.  My soul hangs delicately, clutching to the work I must eventually release if I am to lift off on the breezes of rest these next four weeks will offer.

There seems to be a more tenacious clutching this year.  The season just past required more of me in some ways than I can remember in a very long time.  A full-out engagement, a relentless pursuit, the sometimes chaotic dance of 'team', an alert and careful mind, and that exhausting work of a surrendered soul.  All of which I did so imperfectly.  Which is why I'm conscious of having to let it go, of that being hard to do.  I evaluate and assess and second guess, instead of sleep.

Quiet waters are waiting.  And the absence of the tyranny of the urgent.  Less of a need to be doing and more of the permission to just be.  Fewer mirrors, both real and metaphorical, will provide better opportunity to see my reflection instead in the eyes of the One who thought I was to die for.

And He will remind me,
I hope,
of who I am
in the absence of expectation.