Three
minutes. I had been sitting at my desk, busily at work, for the majority of the
morning. Writing, revising, catching up on correspondance. I was being a good
little do-bee. I was not anywhere closely resembling a don’t-be.
A
week away from my desk as I brought First Kisses to life along with my
gifted cast and crew meant there was a long list of “Do’s” and several “Don’ts”
which I began to sift through. Three hours later, I moved through my front door
and onto my porch.
I
plopped onto my easy-chair, once-to-be a part of the set for Cat on a Hot
Tin Roof, and remembered from deep in a cloudy corner of my mind, “Three
minutes.”
My
friend, Dian Reid, had blogged about three minutes of silence.
It
felt like perfect timing.
I
looked at the once garbage-tire-turned into flower garden using flowers from the First Kisses prop room by Samuel and started
to breathe, simply breathe. In and out, in and out. I tucked my cell phone
turned into timer into my pocket and breathed and watched the flowers in their
simple stillness.
In
and out, in and out.
After
two minutes I thought my timer might have not been working. I was surprised to
see I only had a minute to go.
It
felt like an eternity had passed.
What
I didn’t know then was my heart was just beginning to settle in.
Such
simple beauty was seen then in the flowers. I started to notice their scent in
the soft breeze. The hyacinth hugged me. I could suddenly hear each bird’s
individual song. The drone of a far-off lawn mower became more like a cello and
less like a jackhammer.
The
timer buzzed in my pocket.
I
smiled, prayed a simple, “Thank you” and turned off the alarm.
In
three simple minutes of silent, my soul was restored.
Recent Comments