Oh the best laid plans.
To go one way and then you find yourself heading another way entirely.
Spontaneously slow walking and talking, at a snail’s pace really.
Uncovering the unexpected. And stopping. Often.
To ponder on the stumbled on wonder.
To view the world with a shift in your life lense. The one through which you view things in the daily ordinary.
But the summertime lense can bring a cool green change in perspective.
Cut flowers from the yard, petals on the path, shadows through the gate they lay down and ask to be stumbled upon.
When you find yourself moving at a snail’s pace. Because you walk in the shadow of a generation before. And you know you have this one glorious day.
And the gift comes in taking the path marked by another one. Whose pace is not your own.
And isn’t that what love does? It shifts gears and changes pace and waits on others.
It is patient and it is kind. And I think sometimes it moves slow and steady, at a snail’s pace. And the only rushing sound is that of the waterfall. I am learning to love like this. Slow and patient. Unrushed.
But I am slow at learning to love, like this. And oh it is so slow and hard, this new kind of love.
But that Joy comes in the unrushed dog days of summer in the shadow of another generation is a good lesson to learn. Summer teaches with her slow warm hand. She turns the head and opens the heart to learn anew.And shows in the slow light of a June day how to love to the beat of another’s pace and stride. To love the other’s ways. To bend down in love to another’s needs.
Even if I learn it at a slow snail’s pace, it is that I learn it at all, in the days remaining that is important.
And the light creeps through and shines like the Hope that I have to learn it well and to learn it for good. The good that is lasting and the good that is slow
and patient and kind.
We are three generations watching in love at how we care for and love another. Three women with a pace and stride unlike the other’s, learning to bend in love. Slow loving the other.
Slowing down for love on these dog days of summer.