Making Space for Wonder

This weekend was interesting. I bought brownie mix then realized I don't have the proper pan, so I made one giant brownie cookie instead. I proceeded to eat most of it, getting up from the couch to cut giant slabs from the thing while watching episode after episode of The Office. It felt good. The rest. The laughter. The nothingness.

Days haven’t looked so normal lately.

I’ve been doing less and wondering where the time goes. “How did so little fill so much?”

Coffee. A walk. A phone call. Some work. Before you know it, it’s dark outside.

But I guess that’s a good thing, huh? Losing track of time.

I say all of this because there's a subtle sense of judgment beneath it all.

Not at first.

At first, I sunk into it fully. The simplicity.

It’s been a month now. Shouldn’t I be doing something...more?

The urging. That voice that recalls the project, the chore, the responsibility.

There is some part of me that has always struggled to turn it off. Maybe it’s like that for all of us.

“Can you please just let me relax?”

It can be a real buzz kill. And for what? The weekend was good for my soul. Don’t we all deserve to fully embrace the exhale? I don’t remember the last time I laughed so hard.

I was talking with my friend Jamie the other week. We got to sharing about what matters most to us in life. A lot of it comes down to how we want to feel.

Present. At ease. Creative. In flow with life.

She sent me a text after our conversation, pointing me back to a chapter in A Woman’s Worth.

In the chapter read:

Fish can’t make it without water.
Astronauts can’t make it without space suits.
And enchanted women can’t make it without love and a sense of the miraculous.
-Marianne Williamson

Miraculous. Stemming from the Latin word "miraculum" meaning “object of wonder.”

We need wonder, don’t we?

That feeling of curiosity, joy, and awe we find in reading a story, watching the sunset, listening to the chilling strokes of a violin. Invite wonder and you invite the muse. Emotions. Soul.

We need wonder as much as we need air.

Over this past month, I’ve had a lot of time to listen.

And you know what I’m hearing?

I want to enjoy experiences that have nothing to do with grinding it out or trying to prove myself.

I want to plant a garden. I want to ride a horse. I want to take a road trip to Caddo Lake and see the Spanish moss hanging from the cedar trees.

I want to add more color to my home. And to my life.

I want to enjoy my damn self and this wonderful world, hours of “unproductive” laughing at The Office and all.

What about you? What are you envisioning during this crack in time?

Are you getting closer to yourself?

I shared my desires with Jamie and she said something beautiful to me.

I want to share it with you.

We could all use a friend like Jamie in our lives to text poetic wisdom from time to time.

She said,  “Open that door, sister. Open that door to the daydream as reality.”

I want to say it again to you.

"Open that door, my friend. Open that door to the daydream as reality."

What is your daydream, I wonder? And how much say does it get in your life?

It's such a strange time. All the world on hold.

But soon, all will quicken again.

Deeply engrained neural pathways will spring into action knowing just what to do.

We'll rise to the occasion. This measly month won't stand a chance.

Unless you want it to.

Unless you've found something worth taking.

I'd like to take more of my soul. 

Yellow walls. Plump tomatoes. And galloping.

Yes, that feels right.

Love,
Jamie