It was a day that unfolded with invitation. There were things to be done. Tasks to complete. Shoulds.
However, the waters of Lake Michigan were still in a way that rarely held for an entire day. The waters edge lightly kissed the pebbly shore. Come. Put your other plans aside. Come, be a part of me.
Soon I found myself in my sea kayak, paddling the clear, gentle waters of the mighty great lake. This day, the summer voice of an often strong ebbing and flowing energy, seemed to join the clear blue skies’ mellow vibes. There were a few large sailboats in the distance, lazily taking their time. A periodic fishing boat created a slight increase in the bend of the water as they headed out to deeper waters. I could see down through the green hues to the intricately formed wave lines in the sand several feet below me.
A song I had listened to a couple of weeks ago became the steady and slow rhythm of each paddle stroke –
I want to be where my feet are. I want to breathe the life around me. I want to listen as my heart beats right on time. I want to be where my feet are.
I had a destination… a beach three miles south that I knew was rarely inhabited with people. That’s what I wanted. I also knew that after several recent excessively wavy days, the chance of discovering beach glass was quite possible.
For decades now, I have cherished the opportunity to walk the shores of Lake Michigan for hours, looking amongst the thousands of rocks and pebbles on the shore or the waters’ edge for the precious gems of tumbled glass. Whites – greens – browns – and the rare blues. It is holy time for me. The Spirit often speaks to me as I search; about how we have a God who looks for us, wherever we are. Who is with me wherever I am. How what may have no value to others, has infinite value to the Creator of all things.
I reach my destination and feel the Spirit’s presence right beside me as I carefully exit my vessel and begin my search. I sense the Spirit reminding me to slow. my. pace. I recognize that I can listen and see all things more accurately that way.
What is it to be truly present to a moment? To not be looking backwards, nor forwards. To be right. here.
As I slow my pace; take slow, long inhales and exhales; allowing everything but the here and now to be lifted in the breeze… I’m becoming fully. present. It is a practice. It takes practice. The practice draws, soothes, and comforts me.
I chase my worries. I flee my sorrows. But what you give me, is now. So take my burdens and my tomorrows. I want to be where my feet are.
The next hours flow in the rhythm of inhale. exhale. recognize. listen. release. be. I periodically discover a colorful gift and allow an audible “thank you” to float on the breeze. It is a sweet, sweet experience, to simply be and be with.
I run to capture the next horizon, but what you give me is here. I get no farther and still I find you. I want to be where my feet are.
After quite a while, I sense my ability to be fully present lifting. I get back in my kayak for the paddle home.
The ground below me is how you hold me.
Although I’m aware that my next destination is out there, I keep my pace slow and take in my surroundings as I paddle. Along the way, I am gifted with two bald eagle sightings. Each of them receives nourishment from a fish they are eating on the shoreline. I stop and just observe.
Gratitude has grown within me and is now settling within my very cells. Hold this. Carry it with you. Listen for my invitations. Do this again. and again. Wherever you are.
I recognize this day came to me from a place of privilege. Still, it remains true that the Spirit beckons to each of us right where we are.
How might the Spirit be inviting you to spend some time just be-ing this day? How can you begin to practice the gift of being present? How might you make it a regular healing practice, especially when life is challenging you, and you need the palpable presence of the Holy?
I want to be where my feet are. I want to breathe the life around me. I want to listen as my heart beats right on time. I want to be where my feet are.
Porter’s Gate – Sanctuary Songs – Centering Prayer (click for the song)
