Numbering

 

I am mindful of the day.

In just seven more of them I expect Ken and I to have landed in Chiang Mai, been greeted at the airport, stopped in at the “Big C” mall for lunch and to exchange currency, then have arrived to Hot Springs to settle in for a well needed nap.

Before that we will finish up our family time here, likely with a visit to Giant’s Tomb beach later today.

Then we’ll see them off on Friday, spend just two more days here, then head home for a 36 hour stint before the transportation service to the airport arrives Monday night at 9.

All these details, and all the images and lists they conjure in my mind are only vague and misty right at this moment.

Because I am mindful of the day.

This morning the water is like glass for almost the whole hour it takes to paddle around the island.

Even the open water.   I can give only sideways attention to all the things that are about to happen in the next seven days, because right now, at the beginning of this one, it seems I may have slipped between the cracks of time and space into another dimension.  One where all is calm, all is bright.

“Teach us to number our days that we may gain a heart of wisdom,” says the psalmist (90:12).

I feel I am numbering here on the water.  Considering, appreciating, being fully present in the moment of it, knowing I will be fully present also in the other spaces and moments that are about to abundantly fill the days to come.

It’s only recently that I’ve learned this skill, if you can call it that.  This ability to “be in” all the deep spaces of my life that bring resonance and joy and demand much and give much.  My home of 45 years in Waterloo.  This home of 50 years on Georgian Bay.  And the home where I belong at Hot Springs for 15 years now, since we’re counting.

What a morning!

This one.

Right now.

Oh the abundance of my numbered days!

God grant me the wisdom to not waste a single moment.