It’s summertime which means an invitation to indulge in some of summer’s pleasures. Despite the fact that I have been hard at work writing a second book and preparing to teach, I still take breaks for some of summer’s finer gifts. Let’s celebrate slowness. Some things that should be done s-l-o-w-l-y:
- Taking a long swim in the open water, feeling the stretch of your muscles.
- Eating fresh sweet berries and juicy peaches.
- Cooking a meal with complete loving attention to each chop, sprinkle, and stir.
- Napping in a patch of sunlight.
- Hiking deep in the emerald woods.
- Listening to the rhythms of the ocean until you discover your own heartbeat hidden there.
- Rubbing a dog’s belly.
- Letting a beautiful piece of music wash over you and knit itself into your being.
- Listening. To a friend, a spouse, a stranger. To silence, to the holy presence.
- Making love. Treasuring the gift of skin next to skin.
- Gazing upon a work of art or a sunset and really seeing it. Gazing upon a loved one and really seeing them.
- Transformation: The long slow process of becoming who we really are.
- Grieving. Experiencing the fullness of sorrow and loss.
- Basking in gratitude for the simple joys of each day.
What are the things that you take time to enjoy slowly? What are the things worth savoring? What might happen if you slowed down enough to hear deeply the God who speaks in sheer silence? What is being whispered to you there?
Feel free to make your own additions to the list either below or at your own blog. . .
Telling myself over and over
“another day in paradise”
I savor those moments of transition from the outside world to the peace and presence of God when I walk into church and prepare myself for worship. I love to feel the cares and busy-ness slip away!
I added to the lovely list here: http://www.mysimplerlife.com/blog/?p=1612
Suz and Laure, thank you for sharing these most delicious of lists! This has been wonderful to share with my readers.
reading a poem
reciting a poem from memory
telling the truth
receiving myself through my reflection in a mirror