Monday 26 February 2018

Narnia

Childhood winter days—
I remember when glistening snow
Turned everything into a magical world.
I walked through the woods
With wide eyes and baited breath
To see Tumnus waiting for me
Just beyond the light of the lamppost.

But now the snow cannot muffle
The blaring horns and thrumming engines,
The clattering of machinery that encroaches.
My Narnia is shrinking.

And I—I have changed too—
My feet sink deeper in the snow
My gaze moves downward
As my mind carries the worries of the day.
I fight
To lift my eyes
To the snow-laden branches.
The magic, the peace and beauty
Cannot touch the heaviness of my heart.

Where has my wonder gone?
I am tied to the earth—tired—
Afraid I will hear Aslan say
I'm too old to go back to Narnia.

Wednesday 7 February 2018

Thursday 1 February 2018

Mindfulness

Breathe.
A deep breath.
Feel the air moving
In and out.
Your heart is beating.
You are alive.

Your feet are touching the ground.
Notice that.
Feel the pressure on your feet,
The hardness of the ground.
Your hands are cold.
They ache a little when you move them.
The blanket is soft.
Feel it.
There is another blanket piled on the ground—
The light from the window creates highlights and shadows on it
As if it should be drawn for an art class.
Study it with care.
Appreciate the highlights and the shadows.
There are toys scattered across the floor too.
Notice the cow figurine
Balanced on top of the police car.
Think about the creativity of a three-year-old
Who wanted to give his toy a ride.
There is a single sock under the chair.
It was dropped there after coming home from the park.
Think about little feet
That love to run and climb
And jump in puddles.
Listen to the noises of the house.
Hear the hum of the refrigerator coming from the kitchen,
The toddler chattering to himself in his bedroom,
The rumble of the car passing on the street.
It is raining.
Watch the drip drip drip
Of water falling from the power lines.
Hear the buzz of the oven timer,
The child calling for you,
The footsteps running down the hall.
There is a half-eaten cookie forgotten on the piano bench.
Notice its texture,
Its colour.
Observe the overflowing basket of laundry,
The dust on the piano,
The crumbs littering the floor.
Feel the stress that rises in response to the needs of the day,
The worries that never really go away.
Open your hands and accept the grace present in this moment.

Breathe.
A deep breath.
Feel the air moving
In and out.
Your heart is beating.
You are alive.