Slow down.
Take a breath.
Look around at the leaves falling from the trees and maybe pick one up.
Twirl it in your fingers and admire its intricacies.
Feel the cool breeze of late Fall upon your cheeks.
Be present.
These are the phrases I’m telling myself this morning as I try and stop thinking and stressing about the myriad of things that need to be done.
I’m trying to remind myself to take a beat… to refresh my light.
Maybe these phrases are good for you to repeat as well as you head out into the world (or really at any time you happen upon this post).
The last few days, the twins have wanted to collect Fall leaves to do an “experiment.” They heard that if you place a piece of white paper over a leaf and scribble on it with a pencil… the leaf and all its veiny parts will show up on the paper.
They are very eager to try this.
But there are no leaves in our house.
There are no leaves in our garage.
There are no leaves in the parking lots at school… at least ones not damp and trampled by lots of hurried feet.
And so we haven’t done it yet.
Yesterday, my more curious twin looked out the window into the dark and said “Did they all go away before we got one?”
And it made me sad.
To think he may miss the leaves as we hurry here and there barreling towards the weekend.
We are almost there.
Soon we will have ten days to gather leaves and do experiments.
If only the leaves hold on for just a bit longer.
But should they be the ones holding on for me?
“I am so distant from the hope of myself,
in which I have goodness, and discernment,
and never hurry through the world
but walk slowly, and bow often.
Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, “Stay awhile.”’
Pause they beg me.
Stay awhile.
Will you stay awhile today?
