A Moment of Silence

It's easy to be quiet when you are quiet. Right? It's simple to let our minds flow as we sit on the beach under the gentle sun, someone tidying up our rented room back in the village and prep cooks rotely pounding out the chicken that will become our dinner for the evening - whichever resturant we eventually decide to enter.

Perspective is a welcome visitor in these moments. We pat the patch of sand next to us, encouraging him to take a seat and chat. We listen willingly to his message, nodding, processing, sure that the sound of the waves crashing and ephiphinisitc thoughts will settle into our bodies - stow away, travelling back to our daily lives, when we do.

Yes - it's easy to be quiet when you're quiet. It's hard to be centered within the storm.

Today is Tuesday. Saturday is four days away: 96 hours. The numbers give the appearance of time being on my side, yet my energy - both mental and physical - seem to feel that it is evaporating before my very eyes.

My to-do lists grow. Sub categories expand. Random words 'ICE' pop into my head, reminding my ever-chugging brain of yet another small detail I have forgotten.

I am not in this alone. For that I am eternally grateful. I have competant and qualified people helping to pull this off. Yet, I am the one spun up like a corded top.

I was for most of my life, rigid and anxious and waiting for the next moment - only to get there and be dissatisfied with that moment, then automatically turn my head scanning the horizon for the next, and the next, and the next.

I broke out of that lifestyle. DH was the catalyst that put my slower, spontaneous, flexibile thinking into action. What a freeing time. A whole new world existed. I embraced each day. I really lived each day, enjoying my time. And the most astounding thing happened. When I looked back on those days I could remember every part of them, every emotion of connectedness.

I know this walk is a big endeavor. I realize it takes a great amount of planning and organization. But I can also feel it tugging me back to my old ways and that scares me. Because when I look back, say - on Monday, I want to remember all the prep and smile. I want to know that I lived the day of the event, not just lived through it. I want to feel that warm emotion spread through me each and every time I revisit those hours in my head. But most of all, I don't want to lose a week of my life worrying, obsessing, and what-if'ing something that hasn't even happened yet.

This is a choice. I choose calm. I choose fulfillment. I better go meditate.

(But PS - Mother Nature, if you are reading this I wouldn't mind just a little sun for Saturday - jsut saying...ok, I'm done )