Dear Readers and Friends,
You can be forgiven for thinking I’ve vacated this blog, left it hanging untouched in cyberspace because I’ve not written here for a couple of months, but that’s not the case.
Because of my daily battle with chronic illness and the difficulties of life with M.E, I’ve had to reconcile myself to posting here infrequently. It’s not what I desire but it’s the best I can manage. Thank you for your understanding and grace.
Today I am happy to be able to share what is probably the l-o-n-g-e-s-t poem I have ever written. It’s about the inner conflict we have when our mind says go and our body says slow. A familiar pattern for me and many others.
I toyed with breaking the poem into paragraphs but felt it might lose its flow, so I’ve left it alone. I hope you can identify with the thoughts, especially if you have similar difficulties or need a reminder to rest because it’s vital for our bodies and souls.
Today when I could do nothing… I felt bereft. Few words entered my head. I felt the weight of wanting, the ache of the ordinary spreading out before me. Time hung heavy, caught as I was between a desire to do and a desire to pause. No ticking clock, only my own meandering thoughts acting like a metronome urging me on. But I couldn’t respond because my body wouldn’t cooperate and my brain was sluggish, slow, fogged up and stupefied. So I began to give myself grace, loosen the loop of busyness. I saw how being unproductive might feel like laziness yet was all I felt capable of. Maybe this is a season where I could learn not to contradict the sense of being more suited to somnolence. Perhaps this is a day to just go with the flow, let my uptight soul become willingly untethered to tasks. So I ease myself into a groove of rest, a period to pause, a time to still and not count my worthiness based on what I might achieve, what I can or cannot do. Although being inactive feels like a waste sometimes even if it represents a large part of my life. Physical illness and weakness do not fit me well for being active. Instead, they suggest a slower pace is not only doable but desirable. Letting my brain be silenced could mean more listening to my heart which speaks its own nurturing thoughts. It says: 'Rest, relax, chill out, nobody is judging you by what you do or do not do. Nobody is keeping score to see how many times you stop to pause, to rest, to read or yawn. There are no observers here now, watching how you shape your words. only your own inner critic who never ceases to chip in. Tell her to go away because you’re not listening to her today, you are listening to your heart.' So I adjust, mentally, at least, tune into the idea of my soul’s release to this. May I be like a wave breaking on the shoreline, rolling over and slowing, until all you see is the lacey rivulets circling your feet. A delicate spread of pale latte nothingness. No pushing. No tug. Just a soft slithering over sand and crawling back again. All the while absorbing sun’s warmth like a gentle benediction of love, aided by the wind’s soft kiss. © joylenton
My absence here has also been caused by being extra busy writing a new book! It’s called Sacred Noticing: Seasonal Glimpses of the Infinite. UK readers can check it out on Amazon by clicking on the link above. US and European readers can click on the image to the left. Blessings and love. Xx 😉💜