Back from summer holidays, I am struck by what usually occurs to me when I resume my work schedule. The difference in pace and activity doesn’t just impact my mood or sense of balance, the quality of my attention is dramatically different. When I am away from my routine and some of my work obligations, I take the time to appreciate small things—the angle of sunlight through the trees and the nuanced inflection in the voice of the person with whom I am speaking. I watch a gull soar through the air. I pause in the middle of whatever I may be doing to simply look and take deep breaths. I am not in a hurry to do anything in particular. I delight in being.
When I get back to work, I get sloppy. I go from meeting to phone call to email and none of it gets the entirety of my focus, my mindful attention. Can I bring the gifts that summer’s pace offers to my daily routines?
I preached about this a few days ago and realized that for me, it has to do with savoring life. When I bring the kind of attention to my living that spiritual practice helps me hone, I can see the grace notes. It doesn’t mean that things will go well or smoothly; but it does mean I won’t go through life on auto-pilot. When I am committed to being present as fully as I can to my life—the joys and the losses—I am keenly aware of the preciousness of each day. I take less for granted. I find that the so-called little things in life are not so little. I can see just how miraculous and marvelous so many aspects of the natural world are.
I acknowledged on Sunday that for those who suffer from depression or anxiety or other mental/emotional/spiritual challenges this can be excruciatingly hard, even impossible. Paying close attention to life when it feels like all you can do to just get by is not appealing. And yet, I recall that at the end of the slog through the hardest moments in my life—it was attention to the glimmers of sweetness or kindness or hope that got me through. The attentiveness was part of the bridge to the other side of the pain and helped me see beauty and possibility again when I reached the next step on my journey.
The poet Mary Oliver speaks to the sources of savoring in her poem When I Am Among the Trees:
When I am among the trees,
especially the willows and the honey locust,
equally the beech, the oaks, and the pines,
they give off such hints of gladness.
I would almost say they save me, and daily.
I am so distant from the hope of myself,
in which I have goodness, and discernment,
and never hurry through the world
but walk slowly, and bow often.
Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, ‘Stay awhile.’
The light flows from their branches.
And they call again, ‘It’s simple,’ they say,
‘and you too have come
into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled
with light, and to shine.”
May these last few weeks of summer offer you myriad opportunities to savor. May you bring that attentive focus to all of your days. May you remember that “you too have some into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled with light, and to shine.”
Shine on.
Rev. Shana Lynngood is co-minister of First Unitarian Church of Victoria. She has lived and served in Victoria since 2010.
You can read more articles from our interfaith blog, Spiritually Speaking HERE
