A few days ago, I met a caricature of myself in the grocery store. I can still hear the awful click, click, click of her heels on the tile floor.
She was on a mission, fast and efficient as she crossed things off her list. Click, click, click. Grab something off a shelf. Click, click, click to the next aisle. I don’t think she saw anybody else in the store. At the checkout, she pushed her cart a few feet beyond the clerk and stood tense and taut, reaching behind her for the receipt. I guess she was hurrying home to cross more things off her list. It was a lot easier to breathe after she left.
I don’t want my steps to sound like hers anymore. I want to take gentler steps. I want to see the people around me, and I want enjoy the small gifts along the way. I want to learn to let life flow with beauty, ease and grace. I want to let go of a need for control that has kept me so often from joy.
I will practice today, one gentle step at a time.
“She was able to let go of a need for control that had kept her so often from joy.” Belden Lane (of his mother in her latter years)
“Because You are my help, I sing for joy in the shadow of Your wings.” Psalm 63:7