It's one of those days when I feel like I've overslept, that I've missed the alarm and that I'm already running behind even though I have not set an alarm for years, and there is nothing to be late for when you have nothing planned.
And yet I was late, arriving about an hour later than I normally do at the church. It was quieter today, but almost too quiet, too far past dawn I suppose. It even smelled different, like someone had been painting and mowing the grass at the same time. Perhaps there was a different wind this morning.
I took a few pictures, but though coming to Hope daily has been helping me feel calmer and more relaxed, today I felt jumpy.
When we are anxious we don't breathe right. We breathe too fast. Our hearts race. We feel lightheaded.
In order to take quality pictures, in order to avoid the blur that happens all too frequently when you are using a megazoom camera, you have to control your breathing. In fact, and I realized this the other day when I found myself out of breath after taking a few pictures, you have to hold your breath to keep the camera still.
It was the only way to get a picture of this squirrel this morning. Much like the dragonfly the other day, the squirrel was there on the branch waiting. He was still and then when I moved, he moved, to look at me.
I have to admit I'm afraid of squirrels. They're not afraid of humans and that leads me to visions of one jumping in my hair or on my back and me screaming through the trees, trying to get away.
But this morning I held my breath, not out of fear, but out of hope of freezing this moment in time.
Because let's be honest, how often to do you see dragonflies or butterflies or squirrels just sitting? Aren't they always on the move? Isn't their pattern always frantic? The same with the bumblebee, hopping from one flower to the next.
But I've seen them now. I've seen them still and quiet. And I know that I can be still and quiet too even on the days that feel anxious and off.
And yet I was late, arriving about an hour later than I normally do at the church. It was quieter today, but almost too quiet, too far past dawn I suppose. It even smelled different, like someone had been painting and mowing the grass at the same time. Perhaps there was a different wind this morning.
I took a few pictures, but though coming to Hope daily has been helping me feel calmer and more relaxed, today I felt jumpy.
When we are anxious we don't breathe right. We breathe too fast. Our hearts race. We feel lightheaded.
In order to take quality pictures, in order to avoid the blur that happens all too frequently when you are using a megazoom camera, you have to control your breathing. In fact, and I realized this the other day when I found myself out of breath after taking a few pictures, you have to hold your breath to keep the camera still.
It was the only way to get a picture of this squirrel this morning. Much like the dragonfly the other day, the squirrel was there on the branch waiting. He was still and then when I moved, he moved, to look at me.
I have to admit I'm afraid of squirrels. They're not afraid of humans and that leads me to visions of one jumping in my hair or on my back and me screaming through the trees, trying to get away.
But this morning I held my breath, not out of fear, but out of hope of freezing this moment in time.
Because let's be honest, how often to do you see dragonflies or butterflies or squirrels just sitting? Aren't they always on the move? Isn't their pattern always frantic? The same with the bumblebee, hopping from one flower to the next.
But I've seen them now. I've seen them still and quiet. And I know that I can be still and quiet too even on the days that feel anxious and off.
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