Time

Yesterday morning, as I sat waiting for friends on my front steps, I happened to look across the street to where an enormous maple tree stood heavy with leaves and history. As the wind blew my hair and cooled the hotness of my face from the arrival of summer's first 90+ day, the movement of the tree struck me. It swayed so softly in the warm breeze, that though I was across the street, I felt I could reach out and touch the greenness of its leaves. If I did, the memories of childhood summers spent in the branches of maples would rush back to me. I would sense the smoothness of the bark under my bare feet, the flexing of arm muscles as I pulled myself ever higher. I became lost in the sway. The rustle of leaves became like a song, and slowly pulled me toward sleep even as cars drove past.

The arrival of my friends and our Farmers Market destination woke me from my daydream, but not before the impact had been fully felt. It could not have been more than 5 minutes of uninterrupted daydream, but its healing has lasted even as I write this. It is not often enough that I simply sit and allow a beautiful thing to touch my soul. I am too easily lost in the "have to's" and "need to's". I forget the essential pause. The moment of reflection. The enjoyment of a simple and completely free experience. There were no worries of how I was going to pay this month's rent, or the constant prayer that nothing would happen to my car today. I wasn't worried about a strategic plan to become debt free or whether or not I could afford to by the hypo-allergenic, name-brand lotion this week. I just was. And it was wonderful.