The other day, as I was reading the article “A Deeper Knowing,” by A. Calhoun and K. Trujillo on the Kyria website, I was struck by this quote from the book of Isaiah, “You have seen many things, but you pay no attention; your ears are open, but you do not listen.” Although written thousands of years ago, the words of this prophet are truer than ever today. Life moves so fast. It’s easy to miss the little things, even easier to miss the things that lend it joy.
As I’ve written previously, I’m in a “between” time right now. I’m not only between writing projects, but also between careers, between the seasons of the year when the air outdoors is healthy for me to breathe (I have allergies), and between the time my husband has been accepted to and will begin a new education program and a change of occupation.
Each day, job hunting seems to consume my hours. Who would have ever imagined looking for a full-time job could swallow up more hours per week than working one? And so I spend hours trying not to hunch over my computer, keeping my nose to the “grindstone”: get this application filled out, write that cover letter, describe the range of your skills… I guess I can’t complain that I’m not writing, and yet… I’m not writing.
The days slip by. My crocuses bloomed without me ever stepping out onto the patio to admire them. The daffodils are dodging hailstones, and the buds of the tulips I planted last fall are starting to emerge from the protective cocoon of their sheltering leaves. I need to stop and notice. It is these little details that feed the creative soul.
Happily, I can report I continue to jot down notes for my new project. With each new idea my soul sprouts wings, and I yearn to start the writing. And I have found a new occupation for those minutes I lie in bed trying to fall asleep. I collect an alphabet of words that bring me delight—either the sound of them or their meaning—delicious, sapphire, harmony. Often the words are inspired by looking back over my day—gentleness, for my husband’s touch, sparkling, for the shaft of sunlight that broke through the clouds. In remembering, I notice, and my spirit is filled.
What do you do to help you notice what nourishes when life is spinning you along at a madcap pace?