Childlike Presence

Image courtesy of Sweet Crisis | FreeDigitalPhotos.net

The wind passing through the eucalyptus trees temporarily distracted my senses from today's harsh reality and took my mind back to a time where I found joy in closely observing minuscule insects go about their daily business of survival. They were steadfast and perseverant, my holy teachers. I sat upon decomposed granite, feeling tiny pebbles embed into the skin of my bare legs, leaving artistic indentations of which I'd later count and discover patterns. There was no hurry, nor any need to stand and present myself in any way that simply wasn't. I'd imagine the fallen acorn caps to be tiny hats for fairies, or castles for ants, or I'd organize them into miniature villages. 

These rare and most cherished childhood memories didn't consist of loud screams in bounce-houses, nor birthday parties with slightly creepy hired entertainment, but of quiet moments alone in the backyard of my grandmother's house in Santa Barbara, with the sun warmly caressing my face ever so gently and the wind moving through the trees making everything come alive, all at once. 

I wonder, are introverts born or made?

Even in the Quietest Moments . . .

There are many nights, like tonight, where I cannot get to bed. It’s as if I choose to be selfish and hoard the quiet. Roaring vehicles aren’t driving past; UPS has come and gone; the feathered creatures are resting their instruments. No surprises. The only thing registering in my brain is the light, familiar, soothing tip-taps of the keys on my MacBook. So comforting, like a soft down comforter on a cold night or an icy glass of sweet tea in the summer's scorching heat. I have control. I can edit, delete, copy and paste. I can think before I speak by typing, re-reading, re-reading again, then post (less chances of offending or hurting or over-sharing). I can delay, I can speed things up. I can imagine and tell the truth. And because I don’t feel particularly successful today, I don’t want the day to end—because there’s still a chance. Yes. Still there is a chance to share my heart, send that email, find that job, create a new world, begin my future.

But in this very moment, I suddenly realize what I really need is to be in the moment, with the quiet, take that breath, and the success is there. The challenge and the gift is this present moment. It's all I've got. 

And I can finally enjoy the quiet. True quiet. For once.

[Yawn.]