Walk slowly

You know those times of coincidence, when the universe seems to offer you every chance at receiving a message — it’s offered to you in several forms and you somehow keep turning a blind eye to it?

I’ve had so many messages to practice patience lovingly thrown across my path this week. The messengers have come in various forms and have communicated to me in my practice and through my state of physical health, as well as — almost inevitably these days! — by email.

To have patience with myself, to accept where I am and what I am today, to acknowledge my strengths which are the foundations for work yet to come, to be humble in recognising weaknesses, and to be courageous and steadfast in facing all these truths.

Message heard, and (almost) understood.

I’m too tired for writing more than this brief reflection today, but I thought instead I’d share the words of Danna Faulds whose poetry I discovered only recently — and am patiently biding my time before I explore her work more!

The photo is from a time of brief retreat last year at Sharpham Barn in Devon, UK.

Walk Slowly
It only takes a reminder to breathe,
a moment to be still, and just like that,
something in me settles, softens, makes
space for imperfection. The harsh voice
of judgment drops to a whisper and I
remember again that life isn’t a relay
race; that we will all cross the finish
line; that waking up to life is what we
were born for. As many times as I
forget, catch myself charging forward
without even knowing where I’m going,
that many times I can make the choice
to stop, to breathe, and be, and walk
slowly into the mystery.