I was so happy to make it up to the Long Meadow this morning, even though I couldn't help feeling that I had missed so much of autumn. I go to the meadow so I can practice leaving the path. So I can move my steps through damp soil and piles of leaves and not know where exactly I will end up. I go to the meadow to teach my soul how to seek something, even something as simple as a hidden look-out spot with a wooden bench on a hill, and not find it and not find it and then at the last possible moment, see it come into view. This morning the sun kept moving in and out of clouds, and I stood with my camera and waited for the light to come, just as my heart patiently does the same.
There's no fast-forward button on life, and sometimes it feels that as much as we would like to breeze by, time is our greatest ally. I am impatient for arrivals, I lust after finish lines, but reminding myself of this forecast brings me so much comfort as I remember that this moment and the next and time in all her outstretched glory are the dearest of friends.
Time it takes me to recover from a teaching trip: 7 days
Time it takes to heal a broken heart: varies, but current conditions say 6 months
Time it will take me to fully step into my own: my guess, 3-5 years
Time it takes the words to catch up to the soul: always unknown