At 5:41 this morning a bird assumed its normal position in the tree outside of my bedroom window. I imagined she settled herself in on the right branch, probably looked around, then sucked in air and burst into song. For the next 19 minutes I lay there listening to her. It was impossible not to.
It had been a great weekend! Friday was just this fantastic day of wonderment. I worked most of Saturday but went to a great beach party that night surrounded by friends who love me and Randy “Hatman” Smith playing live music on a third floor porch overlooking the ocean. Sunday was Bar Church, conversations with my Mom, and the most delightful afternoon visit. I hadn’t enjoyed myself so consistently for so long in … I don’t remember.
There is lots of work to do this week. I have a staff meeting first thing then there is a public relations plan to finish, scheduled conference calls, eight different trips to plan across the United States and a Board meeting that I’m staffing in Chicago next week. I also have a book to edit (actually more than one), devotions to write which will be recorded and I’ve agreed to serve on another Board of Directors and now I’m being asked to Chair it.
Suddenly I’m in need of office supplies.
So when the bird burst into her morning song, all of these things exploded in my mind at the same time!
So I prioritized!
First I lay there and remembered a terrific weekend and said prayers of thanksgiving for the wonderful things that now occupy my life. I did that for 15 of the 19 minutes. I’ve gotten to where this is how I start every day. That bird is my companion. She shows up at roughly the same time and sings me awake. I lay there and remember the good things and celebrate them. She sings throughout this celebration.
Then I move on to everything else in the last few minutes before getting up. Today I reminded myself of the things that I want to accomplish in this staff meeting and then assigned myself things to get done on certain days this week.
Tomorrow is a conference call with Boston. Friday is lunch with my dear friend Stacy downtown. I left a message for Skip last night because I’d like to see him again. A few others from my Union Mission days are also wanting to hook up. I think these things as I stumble to the shower.
Goddess opens her eyes as I do so though she doesn’t move. Half of her body is in the living room and half in our bedroom. She’s making sure that I’m safe from hurt.
In the shower my friend Mary Ann pops into my head. We had lunch together last week and she has this way of saying things that immediately snap things into perspective.
So we’re sitting there laughing and catching one another up. She is chiding me because I’ve basically dropped out of sight for a year. I tell her about the Sabbatical, what it’s like to heal and from what, a Board Chair who chooses to remain anonymous, the work I’m now doing and what it’s like to run into people who used to want everything from you but now when they see me, they’re stunned.
“Shouldn’t you be dead?” is the message they convey in their eyes and mannerisms.
Mary Ann burst into laughter which in turn makes me laugh.
“I’m not dead yet,” we quote Monty Python at the same time.
Our food comes. We grow quiet for a minute.
“You know Micheal,” she thoughtfully says. “You’ve done your office time. In Louisville and at Union Mission you took an office and filled it with creativity birthing all of these new things that no one had ever done before. The thousands of lives that you impacted is just staggering. But you know what?”
“What?” I asked with a mouth full of salad soaked in Ranch dressing.
“You’ve outgrown office.”
Swallowing and putting my fork down at the same time, I looked at her. What?” I repeated.
“You had nothing else to accomplish in an office,” she kept going, picking at her chicken salad but focused on the things she was telling me. “You outgrew office.”
I can’t believe what she’s saying.
“There was nothing more to accomplish in one. You look at the people who are doing the most interesting things. The ones creating and making the world better. They don’t have an office. They do it in their garage, mountain retreats or boats.”
I just sat there.
“People who have offices just worry about one thing,” she said.
“What?”
“Corners with more windows,” she laughed.
So I clean the pollen on the table and chairs under the umbrella on the Beloved Back deck getting it ready for staff meeting.
It’s time to create.
