beautiful, confession, gratitude, journey

Be still & know…

sea

On Fridays I meditate…

I’m trying to center the chaos of my mind by finding times to do this on other days of the week as well, but for now I’ll be honest and say I only manage Fridays, and even that I’m not super successful at.

A counselor I had, a couple of years ago, recommended that I take on the daily practice of guided meditation. My mind was against the idea and so my inner cynic found her guidance redundant and distracting. Instead I would tune her out and meditate on things like my grocery list, my meal plan and what load of laundry needed to dry vs. hang…

While I certainly have not changed in the last two years, I am a different person in many ways and so when a friend invited me to a meditation meeting, I figured I’d give it a chance. About a month, or so, into it- I’ve mastered the art of quieting my mind and sitting on the shore for about ten of the twenty-minute time allotment. After the (what I estimate is) halfway point, all of the self resentments, doubts and fears that I navigate through daily, finally break through and I can’t quite get back to my seashore. Even with that, I find myself overcome with gratitude for those moments when I was there, feet sinking in sunkissed sand, warm and comforting. There at my beach I talk to God, I surrender pieces of myself, particle by particle, and accept the honest truths that remain.

Last week was an emotionally difficult one, but I made it through the hard parts fairly unscathed. A half a dozen times I felt myself grasping for air and wishing someone would step over, take my hand and pull me from the chaos I couldn’t actually drown in. It’s amazing what another person can do. There is such a peace, and such a terrifying truth of power in that reality.

Life is relational. Whether that relationship, in any particular moment, is with God or other people with varying degrees of real estate in our life- it’s relational. When you cut out the relationship, or worse- when they do, you are left gaping and that never ends well.

These are the things I’m sorting out when I walk the beach on Fridays. These are the things that creep into my quiet moments when I’m outside in the crisp, cool air taking in the star scattered sky or driving in to school as the cotton candy sunrise bursts into the sky. My quiet moments are slowly becoming decipherable, and if this is something that being still can do for me then I’m grateful.

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