I almost encouraged you first thing this morning with:
BE STILL AND KNOW
I would have used a lovely font on a pretty photo, and we would have called that Day 29 of 31 Days of Right Here, and there would be nothing wrong with that. I’m all for a great quote on a nice photo.
They aren’t cheap words to me, you know — they’re life in this fast spinning world where I recognize my word overload and need for silence and some epic cocooning with my favorite quilt, movie candy and a good book.
But, as always, there are layers, which is why I also considered telling you:
I CANNOT WAIT UNTIL THIS MONTH IS OVER BECAUSE I’VE GOT VULNERABILITY FATIGUE, AND I’VE GOT COSTUMES TO FINISH BEFORE THURSDAY, PEOPLE, AND PILES OF STUFF WHERE I NEVER KNEW PILES COULD LIVE AND I’M PROBABLY A WRITING FRAUD ANYWAY — THAT’S WHAT I AM — ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE WHO CAN’T FINISH ANYTHING THEY START. I’M A WRITER WITHOUT ANYTHING TO SAY.
The font and photo wouldn’t have been nearly so pretty, but this is/was also true. It’s what I’ve felt and feared.
I dreamed of finishing off this series with a real bang, so you’d be glad you stuck around to the end. I wanted you to think highly of me. I wanted to control this right here until I owned it, but I’ve felt like I don’t have anything new to say.
Usually, when I recognize my rising need to impress and make life and words conform to my desires, it’s time for a woman to step away from the computer for a little perspective.
This morning, I walked with my dear friend on the occasion of fall’s first frost underneath a sliver of moon and scattering of bright stars, the sun beginning its ascent as we told each other stories.
I cut my five-year-old’s baby bangs and watched as, all by herself, she packed her backpack with snacks, water and activities for a visit with Papa at his office. Saw her pure joy at his side, wearing her jacket and scarf just like a little business woman.
I had my teeth cleaned and talked with my hygienist about her first Thanksgiving without her dad and about her photos of flowers. About how her mom always loved flowers before she died, and that’s why she loves getting close to them.
I noticed crews blowing leaves and the piles beneath trees that only weeks ago hung from above, all shades of yellow, red, brown and orange. I felt the bite of autumn air laced with warm sunshine and thought of the miracle of seasons.
I left the grocery store with bags of food and cut open with my keys the fishnet sack of mandarin oranges so I could look in the eye and give two to a man with a sign that said, “I bet you can’t hit me with a quarter.”
I ate warm leftovers while Lala ate the sandwich she invented — hummus and cottage cheese on wheat. (I’m not sure it will take off.)
I tucked my girl into her bunk bed blanket fort so she can rest for an hour before we pick up her sisters from school.
These details all so ordinary they barely seem worth telling, but I know this: when I try to hammer and pound out performance, when I act like my primary job is production and not living (and loving), I scarcely see the beauty in any of it.
Too often, we train ears to hear the not enough and the do more and the must master, and often we can only really see life again when we step away to listen to what we might need to let go.
Let go of the grip and the doing and all the words, so we can hear again the music of voices and the shuffle of leaves underfoot. Remember what a gift it is to be here at all.
This is Day 29 of Right Here. Throughout October, I’m joining with a community of bloggers (linking up with The Nester) — all of whom are writing each day of the month about a topic of their choosing. To find all posts in 31 Days of Right Here, click here, or see the listing below.
To continue receiving these daily words, subscribe to this blog on the sidebar at left, click here to Like Draw Near on Facebook or follow me on Twitter @AshleyMLarkin. I am immensely grateful to share the journey with you.
POSTS IN THE SERIES
An introduction: Welcome to 31 Days of Right Here
Day 1: For You, Too
Day 2: Fear’s Invitation
Day 3: My Portion
Day 4: Five Minute Friday: Write
Day 5: Rise and Shine
Day 6: My Joys Mount As Do the Birds
Day 7: A Mother’s Fierce Love
Day 8: When Life’s A Mad Rush – How To Slow Time
Day 9: The Fight For Right Here Told Through Two Tales of Epic Whining (Part I)
Day 10: The Fight For Right Here Told Through Two Tales of Epic Whining (Part II)
Day 11: Five Minute Friday: Ordinary
Day 12: When Right Here’s A Mess
Day 13: O God, We Thank You
Day 14: The Date That Almost Wasn’t
Day 15: One Thing That Makes Us Human
Day 16: That We Might See And Remember
Day 17: In Which I Hit A Wall
Day 18: Five Minute Friday: Laundry
Day 19: When You Can’t Hold All The Moments
Day 20: Let Me Walk In Beauty
Day 21: Tend This Seed
Day 22: Just One More Click Away
Day 23: A Reset
Day 24: What We Hold
Day 25: Five Minute Friday: Together
Day 26: The Middle School Dance
Day 27: A Prayer For Hands, Mind And Heart
Day 28: On Cupped Hands And Giving From Right Here
Day 29: What You Might Say When There’s Nothing New To Say