I’m at the park with my dog Harper, and it is a stunning November day. We are blessed with full sunshine and a bright blue sky, on this crisp fall day.
He and I are alone in the prairie, and I’ve chosen the long walk. There won’t be many more days like this before the snow flies.
I have decided to let Harper set our pace today. He meanders here and there, attending to scents and leaping up when the grasshoppers leap across the path.
I was curious about what his pace would be, and even more curious about what would happen if I trusted his pace, for me. He speeds up as we enter the oak forest, and slows down when we get to the meadow. He passes by the bench in the glade.
How many times have I tugged him along, rushing him to my pace? Getting the walk done so that I can get to the next thing that needs doing. Do I really want my end-of-life memories to be filled with all the things I was able to check off my To Do List?
As we finish our walk, Harper’s rhythm has done me a world of good. I can feel, deeply, how important it was to do this, to take our time, and for me to be with him, just being present to every moment. He truly is one of my greatest teachers.
I stop and take a moment just to be grateful for the breath that I took when we arrived at the park, when I tried to “feel into” what this bit of time “wanted to be.”
I’m exploring the idea that life unfolds in a way that is perfectly organic for us, if we let it. Before launching into the next thing, I stop, breathe, and “feel into” the question: What is it time for, now? I have been doing this more, lately.
This practice takes some radical trust on my part, trusting that each moment has it’s own right action, and that some greater intelligence is guiding me in it. And that if I “feel into” the question, I can discern what that action is. It is a way of inviting the being and the doing to dance in the moment.
It’s a powerful way of being in the world, and yet I still have a hard time trusting that all will get done when I come to life like this. I actually think that not only will all get done, but that it will get done more easily, because I am coming to each moment in a fuller, more present way. This is how things flow.
There will be other days, perhaps cold, blustery ones, when what “wants to be” in the time is vacuuming. Today, it was time for meandering.
What is it time for, now, for you?
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