An object in motion tends to remain in motion. Momentum.
Being still has always been very difficult for me.
Being 'at rest' could only mean
I wasn't doing enough.
Wasn't working hard enough.
Wasn't learning enough.
Wasn't dedicating enough time
for volunteering and
[single] parenting through military deployments.
Hunger, world peace, global warming
and the local PTA.
My god, who had time to be still?
Like a jet landing on an aircraft carrier,
cancer tailhooked my momentum.
My physical strength and life force
came to a screeching s l o w d o w n.
And life, as I knew it, changed, forever.
I wanted the hours, days, months
to fly by ...
The weekly chemo,
and then the daily radiation treatments
took nine months.
My mind still wanted to move at warp speed,
my physical body just couldn't comply.
For the first time in my life,
I was forced to, be still.
Who knew there was so much
to discover in being still?
The sweet sound of my daughter's giggle.
Feeling electricity when my son hits that
high note on his trumpet.
Close your eyes.
Even if just for a few minutes a day.
Listen to your breath.
Feel your belly rise and fall.
In this Stillness,
give yourself permission
to just, be.