Change and busyness have been constant companions of mine the past six months. When I think of chronicling all the noteworthy news of my life in this chapter, I get overwhelmed with where to start. So I won’t start there. Not today, at least. I’ll start with the art of showing up.

I met someone several weeks ago, twice my age and perceptibly at peace with herself. In my short time in her presence, I found myself moved with emotion and unable to explain why. I discerned later that it was because she had learned to treasure the quiet corners of her life. The small things she could not be bothered with then, yield her attention now. And it’s made all the difference for her.

Her perspective, as she shared it, became a lens for me to recognize gratitude for my little life. The emotion I had sitting across the table from her came from a longing for the intentionality she created for her time. I want to be at ease in the present in a way that causes time to stand still, even for a moment. So I can remember the flashes of time as a gift. To learn the art of showing up.

Today was an opportunity to practice. Here’s what I noticed:

• the sound of rain on the windows when the wind blows it in certain directions
• the smell of coffee when it’s just been poured
• the sound Nolan’s feet make when he runs through the house. I especially love this phase, where he thinks he’s Sonic the Hedgehog. When he doesn’t know I’m watching, he stands up straight suddenly, curls his hands into fists, then thrusts his arms out and back before taking off running, making engine throttle sounds as he goes
• quality time with people starts with asking if they’d like to do something together. Then enjoying what rises to the conversational surface after that.
• seeing Hunter walk through the door after work is a picture worth a thousand words. There is so much blessing wrapped up in that image when I choose each day to see it and value it.
• feeling the beloved pages of a century-old book turn in my hands, reminded that words outlive us

So often I have missed what’s to be found in the quiet corners of life. I’m grateful that as time continues to carry on, I have the memories of a four-year-old playing in his own world today to take with me into tomorrow. I’m so glad I paid attention to the good things, the meaningful things. It is making all the difference.

Take care & take heart,