Clementines, Tea, Hummingbirds, God

I sat at the dining room table looking out the glass doors, my tea steaming, two clementines on my plate, conscious of how often I do myriad things—much like an automaton—without consideration or awareness of my actions. Once again, the sun had just risen for us humans who often dismiss that as a given.  

My multi-tasking behavior has often served me well, especially in some of my careers, but as pages of years fly by, I want to lean into the essence of life, not the rush of life. So, I brought the steaming mug to my lips, remembering it was a gift from my friend, Maggie, then peeled the clementines slowly with cognizance of the tiny segments they held instead of rushing through, unaware of what I was doing.  

Outside the doors, the birds’ dance had begun. It was mesmerizing: many happy to share the same feeder, quietly taking turns without fanfare, a few, like the Red-Headed Woodpecker, chasing others away. Interestingly, their rivalries played out, not unlike our tendencies with different modes of acting or reacting. The juxtapositions of sharing (or not) and stepping back (or bullying through) reminded me of some human behaviors when hardship or sorrow sometimes create beliefs that they should either be the most entitled or deffer and shrink. (Lifes’ blessings or burdens impact much of that.)  

As I got up and was about to turn and move to another room, a Ruby-Throated Hummingbird drank from one of the feeders I filled just yesterday, hovering almost motionless. The brilliance of color and the feat of seeming levitation reminded me of graceful moving art.  

Last evening, my daughter, grandson, and sixteen-year-old granddaughter, Lauren, were with us. When Lauren and I have conversations about life, it’s very different from my dialogue at her age. Of course, we talk about her passions, but we have discussions of depth about life and change and our planet and what’s beyond this reality. Those moments are precious to me. Fragile like that beautiful hummingbird or the sun rising each morning.  

“Peace Full Home” was gifted to me; I didn’t dream or birth it into existence. It was a message I received on a perfect sunlit Saturday morning many years ago. I’ve felt so many emotions on these pages, some raw and vulnerable, others rare and valuable. I imagine it’s not too unlike your story.

An abundance of circumstances impact human life: moments of unbridled exuberance and joy and heartbreaking remembrances of sorrow and loss. It’s easy to exhort, “live into your highest self”—and I aspire to attain that goal—but I repeatedly fail in my humanness. Yet, I continue to endeavor even in my doubt, darkness, or deficiencies and strive to love even in the murkiness, even when it’s tough, and shadows threaten to block out all light. 

One of God’s truths is our calling to seek joy, love, and peace, and, without question, you are truly worth it. Please don’t ever forget that.

©peace full®/intentional living, 2013-2022


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