I’m heading too town this morning to meet with my friend Philip and another friend of his as I begin restructuring the few things about my life that have yet to be restructured. It has me in a contemplative mood as I sit on my beloved back deck listening to thunder roar out over the ocean.
The sunrise was a spectacular show of every color in the rainbow brilliantly painting the sky. Now though the sun has hidden behind a grey blanket of clouds. The air is still and no breeze blows through Fran’s thousands shades of green. Aside from the thunder, all is peacefully quiet.
Over the weekend I had a second reunion with my friends from college and as we talked it became apparent that we are all managing ourselves through major transitions in our lives. I’m orchestrating the Sabbatical that I needed a few years ago and make decisions about the future. One is contemplating retirement. Another is relocating to another town to care for an aging parent.
Transition abounds.
I’ve taken the attitude that I’m waiting on things to come to me. The future will present itself. This is hard work after a career of chasing things and making them happen. Naturally I would be instigating movement.
Now I wait. Today’s meeting is happening because Philip reached out to me. I’ve been invited to be in Charleston tonight because Dr. Jim Withers reached out to me. In another week I’ll head back to Atlanta to do some work because Lucy Hall reached out to me. There are meetings in L.A. and New Orleans that I will be attending because the invitations came to me.
It is an interesting way to organize myself. Some would call it prayer.
I am learning how to live in the moment. For most of my life I was always looking ahead, thinking about what to do next, ever ready to pounce on opportunities that presented themselves. Letting moments pass me by as I looked ahead.
Now I notice the richness of the marsh and the smell of salt in the air. I linger in these moments.
Shirley visits me and we talk under the stars as good friends do and there is enjoyment in the laughter.
Patti slams her cheek into my lips as I enter the Breakfast Club and I appreciate the tenderness of friends.
Lunch dates appear out of nowhere and an afternoon with no plans turn into rich and fulfilling hours.
The thunder rolls and somewhere life is violently exploding and people are trying to cope through it.
But not here. I am not a part of that.
I sit in the stillness of the quiet.
And I wait.
