Coming in from the QUIT conference which was wonderful which was soured a bit with 2 hard days of driving with too much traffic and heavy rains, very dangerous in spots, I come back into the dark bedroom of the 80 year old man slowly giving over his body to illness and getting ready to leave this life. All his care is good. The hard part just now is how do I slow down enough to leave the hyper vigilance of running a conference and 750 miles of interstate. I need to slow down to his speed as he breathes slowly and speaks slowly and needs only patience which I seem to have used all up in the 2 hours creeping traffic in front of the George Washington Bridge to NYC. I breathe deeply. I straighten my back. I try to stop thinking about details and particulars and soften my focus to notice color, tone, how it feels to be still. Such gymnastics within me as I sit and listen to his thrill that he saw a young moose stroll through his yard in “downtown” Putney. Changing my mind- be it slower, more compassionate, reaching for understanding, trying not to lose balance to fear or anger, or simply trying not to be as dumb as my bio family systems taught me to be- is a discipline more valuable to me now in my mid-50’s than I ever knew earlier in life. Logic and reality have their place, but they mustn’t be given too much space or they just take over. The reach for our best has a knowing that is non-verbal, non-linear, and a comfort as well as a surprise like much of spiritual life.
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