As I woke up and looked out my window at the majestic morning sunrise, I was instantly still and quiet.
I found myself inhale and exhale so deeply that it forced a surprise yawn to push its way slowly out of my mouth.
I just sat there.
Totally engulfed by the magical moment unfolding in front of me.
The warm golden rays looked like honey stretching through the beautiful dogwood blooms, as if they were trying to touch me…
then sliding down to my chest in a way that just seemed to comfort me and quiet me and remind me to, “be still.”
When I was a little girl, my grandmother used to tell me to “be still” when I was bothering my little sister (like squeezing the daylights out of her cheeks…affectionately, of course) or being in general too rambunctious.
It was such a very sweet and very loving way to say, “be quiet,” or, “now keep your hands to yourself.”
But the words “be still” have taken on a whole new meaning for me in my adult life. Of course I’m always remembering my grandmother’s words while frantically trying to suck back in the less eloquent ones that just seem to bubble out when I’ve had it with my kids.
Sometimes life just has a way of pushing you along. It’s almost like a ginormous broom is just sweeping you forward, one big swoop at a time.
I find myself running up on my tippy toes just to keep up.
You know what I’m talking about. We’ve all fallen into that insidious cycle of never enough time, too many people pulling you in too many directions, not enough sleep, what’s next on the list syndrome.
I don’t know about you, but every now and then, I need a little reminder of what’s really important in life.
What I’m talking about is that surreal moment in the middle of mayhem that catches you off guard and reminds you to “be still.”
For me, that happened today.
Just a few moments ago.
As the rays of the beautiful sunrise stretched through my grandmother’s dogwood tree.
Thanks Grandmother, I will.