Just Sit There Right Now

Downriver from Staverton Bridge
Out with Selkie on a beautiful late autumn day, enveloped in the stunning surroundings that embrace this place – the quiet river, rich bird life, last golden leaves hanging on trees like decorations, magical stillness, soft cushions of fallen  leaves underfoot .

The walk was a commitment to an early morning promise prompted by a poem I read.
   
Just
sit there right now.
Don’t do a thing. Just rest.
For your

separation from God

is the hardest work in this world.
Let me bring you trays of food and something
that you like to
drink.
You can use my soft words
as a cushion
for your
head
It might seem to be the wrong time to be thinking about resting and “trays of food”, in this slightly frenetic last two weeks before Christmas. But I wanted to pause and reflect. This time last year the garden was a mud bath, the retreat spaces were a half-finished job, and the building project dominated my life. The year since has been fuller and busier than many years recently, and I often wondered how that fit with my desire to live a more contemplative life.

Since early October,  I found myself in a new phase. The works were finishing, the first guests retreating, and I was viewing a garden created into a pleasing shape with new plants, trees and structure.  I said to a friend “I’m wondering what to do next” and she looked at me somewhat horrified and said “why not just enjoy what you’ve created”. Ah, there’s something the planner/achiever hadn’t thought of ….

The garden is bare again, but full of promise with 100s of daffodil and tulip bulbs planted in the soft earth, waiting for their moment to join in the celebration.  

Posted in Uncategorized

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

*

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>