Monday, August 11, 2014


These days we are all seeking comfort.  Early this morning as I crept down the hall, I noticed nestled in the crook of the tree just outside the window, a squirrel.  His torso hugged low to the tree, his front legs outstretched with his chin resting.  Peaceful, that is until moments after I noticed him; he sensed potential danger.  From the slumbering perch, he was ready to leap, ears twitching and it appeared he was trembling.  I watched him leap to a nearby tree trunk, pause and leap again.  The leaves quaked under his weight.  I turned and went about my day wondering if he was really ever fully at ease or in a state of comfort.  

Soon after the squirrel incident, I made my way through the house and outside to be near the birds and foliage.  The sun still in that in-between state of warmth and heat filled the backyard with light.  In this place, I find comfort.  Closing my eyes I say a prayer, notice my breath and then begin to draw.

Next door, I hear someone yelling commands in Spanish.  The John Deer is zipping through the small patch of green. Someone else revs up the grass trimmer, then a leaf blower.  The succession of noise assaults the quiet.  My comfort is disturbed.  Like the squirrel I must be ready for disturbances that may prick my state of calm.  Isn’t it all about strategizing a balance of inner peace and inner strength?  In this day, both are important.

No comments: