There is a list of things I must do.
Then there is a list of things I should do.
And a list of things that it would be good to do.
And even things I’d like to do.
But contemplation does not work so well with lists.
Lists are handles – so I do not let things drop.
Contemplation is about letting go.
Something in me is afraid to just let go.
What if I forget? What if I neglect? What if …
What if I disappear?
What if, without my tasks, there is no need for me?
I find, at last, a momentary pause within my soul.
I slip into that corner and hunker down upon a small stool
I pull a sheet over my head to hide myself from my lists.
And here, fidgeting, fretting restlessly, I try to wait.
I breathe. I count. I try to still my soul.
It’s not working very well.
In my mind’s eye I lean my head back into your chest.
And whisper, ‘help.’
It’s not a loud, or insistent, or confident whisper –
It’s more like a whine than a plea.
I don’t expect an answer.
I’m not even sure I want one.
But – I realize this with a bit of a start –
My head is resting upon your chest.
My hope is resting upon your presence.
Which means, of course, that you are here.
You are here. I am here.
That’s a beginning.
Actually, that’s a completion.
Daily moment of contemplation … check.
What’s next on my list?
The only thing that makes me smile at the end of all this
is your chuckle in my ear.
[photo by Wendy House per cc 2.0]
I love this blog. It captures so beautifully the tension between “doing” and “being.”