Last month an owl flew just overhead. He didn’t soar or spiral or ride the thermals as the local hawks often do. He flew, zoomed, blasted from one tree to the next, a creature on a mission, clearly without time to waste. Owls hunt sometimes during the day…when winter covers the land…and I imagine he had decided to bolster his diet with a daytime snack.
He had an agenda and like him, like many of us now, we feel an inner press. Is this a time for action or for calm? For feeding the soul or for acting courageously? A time for recovery and serenity or for gathering?
Knowing which direction to head in when the world is harsh is a wisdom in and of itself.
Sometimes that wisdom can be uncovered more easily when I bother to notice what I no longer have time for. It’s a game I play, inspired by a writing prompt from my beloved teacher, Michelle Gillett, who once asked us to write a list of things we now know we will never do.
I will never shark dive.
I will never build a submarine.
I will never play for a professional women’s team of any kind (sad face).
And I will never become a sportscaster. I can let all that go.
And…to discern the wisdom of this time…in the chaos of this world…I’m finding it helpful to ask a related question…What do I no longer have time for?
I no longer have time for worry about when and how I will be invited – it’s time to invite myself to the moments that are enliveing.
I no longer have time for one-sided news.
I no longer have time for clothes that don’t fit, people who are not kind, and meanies on the pickleball court.
And I no longer have time for doubt about my worth in my own mind.
Oh…and food I don’t like. And paper napkins. No more pretending there.
What don’t you have time for?
What are you ready to recycle, toss or burn so that you can zoom toward that which is nourishing????
Maria
