Sometimes this northsider escapes to the south hill’s Manito Park... alone in my car, latte in hand, sunshine’s warmth on my left, duck pond on my right.
It started last year as a winter, Covid-closed ritual when weighty home responsibilities cried out for respite. Now every time I journey alone to an appointment, I honor another appointment here... a date with solitude and permission to just be.
I am thankful we’re moving beyond Covid-closed, but I’m not giving up my rituals of quiet. After going hard for a decade, I found a silver lining in community shutdown - the time, space, and slower pace to emerge from internal shutdown.
Quiet and solitude can be grace not loneliness when we’re willing to sit with ourselves and ask hard questions, pray hard prayers, receive answers - both kind and challenging, and determine to move on from duck ponds in baby steps of new decision.
Like many, I don’t crave a return to the old normal. I’m savoring a slow layering back of only what fits best for an inflow of grace to overflow in Spirit to those I love and serve, instead of finite strength that hits walls and resent responsibilities.
I don’t want to frantically achieve, but to deliberately - with intentional choices - set a sustainable pace for a life that breaths freely in good times and bad, for a healing heart to sow healing.
So I weigh what serves God and serves the life He’s called me to. These I will pick up and put back on; not searching for normal, but leaning into the sleeves of grace-filled, redemptive, and transformational.
Slow-growing an abundant life.
How is your life opening up? Are you savoring any pieces of slow or places of quiet?
