I dream of rocking chairs side-by-side on a wide wrap around porch. A sun that lingers lazily in the sky allowing us time to truly savour the remains of the day.
A place where our senses have grown accustomed to the incessant sounds of nature - running water, chirping insects, gentle breeze, rustling trees - rather than the disruptive tweets and reminders of technology. A delightful chorus interrupted only by long periods of absolute, deepest silence...
Are you daring enough to sit quietly without the shield of your words? What might blossom from the fertile soil of our silence?
The scale is simultaneously grand and humbling. A broad sky packed with stars. Endless fields. Massive rock formations that appear like bones exposed from beneath the earth's skin.
The details are marvelous. Textures of rough bark and revealed wood. Petal-softness, tender underfoot. Nape of peduncle...
I crave this change of scenery. The opportunity to be reintroduced to a graceful pace. When simplicity marvels extravagance. Slowness, stillness, like the tortoise, conquers.
Is it necessary to evacuate in order to create this sense of space, of time, of plenitude and scale?
Can I feel humble and filled with grace when surrounded by our hectic pace? I answer with a resounding yes! We make our own peace. We choose our own pace. Wherever we are...
Will you join me? Where, when how do you find your pace of grace?
