Think Twice

Recently I was waiting in line for my return flight from Mexico.  An elderly gentleman pushed by me in a panic to get to the front of the line and secure a seat for his wife and himself in the extended leg room emergency exit seats.  I watched, and learned.

Thinking of the rush to secure comfort despite the peril of others was forefront on my mind. And

sometimes, the most difficult word to hear yourself say is “Stop.”

Just stop trying,  stop looking for reasons, stop reaching out . . . just stop, and breathe in and out.  Look around without a sound and see the beauty on the ground.  Look up further to the trees with branches softly beaconing thee.  Further still, my little one, and bring your eyes up to the sun.  It’s time to pass the torch my friend, you’ve done your best, it’s been quite a run, now take a rest.

Breathe in and out, in and out, and let each breath bring living air.  Drop your shoulders, and lift your chin, time to let others in.  Time to smile first from within and let that smile turn to an outward grin.  Then catch yourself and move to stealth. 

As plans crumble and days tumble together, know He’s got my back if I ask.  With a grateful heart accept the part of the King’s guard strong and still.  But keep the secret with a relaxed pose and breathe slowly through your nose.

Keep centered in your walk and thought and leave behind the harried rush and mind distraught.  Plan your days and meditate, scheduling tasks does not handcuff but frees the shackles of the mind.  Carve out time for quiet ponder, accepting the past and dreaming of good times yonder.  Leave the past rushed life and cleave to this serene state.

And of my old life? . . . “Return to sender”, “Occupant moved on,” “Change of address,” scrawled on unopened mail.  Unanswered calls and deleted texts, ‘No Contact’ messages to mind miners and queries of ‘Who’s at the door” for every knock.  I understand, I’m there right now.  And running is not usually my thing to do.  Maybe, maybe, just be clear, I may just have to face my fear.  Sure I’ll pack my bags and move away but just know my walk is slow, my stride is long, and in my heart i sing a song, or two, or three or more.

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