I woke up, brushed my teeth, threw on a t-shirt and pair of yoga pants and headed out for a walk with Vero, my little rescue dog. It was 6:50 on an absolutely perfect Sunday morning. Vero scampered as we trekked up the hill (yep, he actually scampers); him stopping often to smell something, me appreciating the absolute beauty of the morning, hearing just my footsteps and the birds that filled the air with a chorus of music (sometimes the smallest birds chirp the loudest).
It was 73º outside when we got back to the house and I sat on the deck with a cup of tea, Vero lying at my feet, and a breeze just strong enough to cause a wind chime, hung high from a tree near the far end of the property (and tuned to the chimes of Westminster), to ring out.
Shadows moved slowly across the deck and I inhaled and exhaled purposely, pushing back fears that threatened to take away the start of a beautiful summer day. Fears that are real and of my imaginings, tangible and intangible, rational and irrational. Human fears that often block out the good and invite the cautious to take over.
In the tension between the “perfect summer morning” and my human brain induced apprehension, I found myself thinking about bigger—not of this world—pictures. So many micro-stories go on inside “the big story”.
I know (in my core) that a mind that’s too caught up in the “what ifs” of life, is going to miss amazingness because it isn’t fully in the moment. It’s like having one foot in the doorway of a beautiful building, but being afraid to walk in completely because there’s so much else going on.
So, I went into my “how about if I give this over to God” mode:
Let me hand these fears over to you, God.
Help me unburden myself from holding on for dear life by learning to loosen the reigns that keep me from exploring the self that I’ve left unaddressed.
Help me to be less dependent on other humans for my value, and more dependent on the spirit that resides inside me—the essence of You in me/of me in You.
Help me to stop wading in a the stream of existential uncertainty, recognizing that fear does not serve me well. In fact, it makes me smaller and stymies my spiritual growth.
What I’d call a perfect summer morning wouldn’t be the same as yours, of course. And, thinking about it more, I’m not sure that in our humanity perfection is attainable (even for one day). Maybe, there’s “pretty darned close to perfect” and “except for this one thing perfect”.
So, maybe what we should seek is the imperfect perfect. And, I go back to God—who created us and who obviously loves us just as we are—and ask for help so that we all can hand over the concept of perfection, knowing (deep inside, in our core) that good enough is just wonderful and that “hitting reset” is okay. In fact, maybe resetting is great! Maybe that’s like waking up anew every day, determined to practice peace-full-living, being in-the-moment, aware, and in love with our imperfect perfection. ❤️