Later there will be time for maneuvering traffic. Later there will be time for phone calls, emails, meetings. Later there will be time to see people and remember to smile, just in case they haven’t seen a smile in a while. Later there will be time to clean the windows and floors. Later.
But these next few minutes shall be for appreciating the way the steam from my coffee dances into the morning sunlight. These next few minutes will be for a few prayers whispered from my heart in the morning silence. These next few minutes are for stillness and gratitude for this day, knowing “later” will be here so quickly.
Sometimes, the birds in this back yard play peek-a-boo. Singing and chirping their greetings from the deep cover of the bushes, or just out of sight behind the branches of the trees. The resident cardinals are especially good at keeping hidden, despite their briliant red feathers.
This week, however, they seem happy and content to be seen, and I absolutely love seeing them.
My grandmother, Ava, was the one who began and encouraged my fascination with cardinals. She was a wise woman. If I can only remember half of the things she told me or I overheard her say during the short years I knew her, I should be fine.
A quick glimpse of a cardinal has always been special for me, but an afternoon of these beauties allowing me a few pictures is enough to make me smile for a long time. All but one of these pictures was taken through the screen as I tried to not disturb the birds too much. So (giggle) these are literal “Screen Shots” .
Birds aren’t known for staying still long, of course, and these are no different. Eventually they left to survey other areas. Perhaps looking for nesting sights, perhaps looking for food, perhaps just enjoying the afternoon sunshine, perhaps all of that and more.
So, having whispered my timeless wish upon first sight, and spending time enjoying their lovely company I settled back onto the porch with my afternoon coffee, and made myself a note to more often remember to focus on the beauty and peace in these little everyday moments.
We are snowed in here in this little corner of the world. This part of North Carolina is closed due to winter. I can’t get out of my driveway because of the snow, and I love it. I have friends and loved ones who must travel regardless of, and even because of the weather, so I am helping keep them safe by staying off the roads.
This beautiful scene will be short-lived, the melting began yesterday and should continue for the next few days as well, but in the meantime, I’m enjoying this wonderful southern snowfall, and reflecting on this journey of mine.
There is this thing called patience, I looked it up. Merriam Webster simply defines it as “the act of being patient”. Then I looked up “patient” and found the fourth definition: “steadfast despite opposition, difficulty, or adversity”. Well, there it is. For me, this journey out of obesity is getting difficult and is being met with opposition from nobody other than myself. My last post on this journey was 22 days ago; at that time I had lost 9 pounds, and was officially out of the obese BMI range into Overweight.
Oh yeah, I was happy with myself. I was on the downhill slide and feeling quite smug. Right about then I imagine this is what happened:
My body: “Hey, wait a second, what is she up to? She can’t take the fat away…the fat is so cushy, comfy, snuggly. The fat is gooooood!! Fat!! Don’t Go!!” (Or something along those lines.)
And so, the fat decided it had a pretty good gig here in this body, so it decided to stick around. For 21 days my weight stayed within the 9-10 pounds lost range.
Frustrating? Yep. Aggravating? Yep. Enough to toss in the towel and settle with being overweight? Nope.
This change, this journey, was never about quick weight loss, although I was quite happy with those initial results. Habits take time to change. Bodies take time to adjust to those changes. And, frankly, not becoming discouraged and gaining any back during those 3 weeks that seemed like a stall, is quite a success in itself.
Here one month into this journey, the refined or added sugar aspect is fading from the central focus. It has been dealt with and given the proper attention, and no longer drives my appetite. Now the focus shifts into other aspects of healthier foods, hopefully more physical movement throughout the days, and patience. And I have renewed hope, because here, one month into this journey, there is finally another change. Here, on day 31 I have a weight loss of 11 pounds total, and even as much as my body loves that security blanket of fat, my internal organs and my spine are, quite literally, relieved.
I also have this reminder that even though I may not always use it, and others may not always see it (I should work on that too) I do have that wonderful virtue, that gift of the Holy Spirit that is patience. It may be difficult, but I can do this, and it will be worth it.
It already is.
This entry is simply to mark my thoughts and progress, and to note that I’m pleasantly surprised I made progress over the recent days. Productive comments and suggestions are encouraged, others traveling on this journey are welcome to join me.
I can do all things through Him who strengthens me. Philippians 4:13
Coffee, a chance to pause, reflect, plan; a time for conversations, hugs, laughter, tears, warmth, strength. Comfort in a cup for moments of solitude, and a reason in itself to get-together with friends and loved ones. Liquid energy to stir the creative thoughts and complete those important tasks, and a means by which the beauty of the present moment can be savored, sometimes in an antique china cup. ~ Coffee, the perfect excuse to take snapshots along morning walks and send them to my sisters throughout the year so we can all have a coffee break together, wherever we all may be. ~ Coffee, it’s so much more than just coffee.
Welcome, friends, to this last Monday of August 2017.
It’s different, you know, when Monday is your day off. The world seems to be in such a rush; everyone has so much to do as the new week begins.
Meanwhile, my focus is on a coffee cup and how few words I can speak.
Soon enough, I will be searching the news for the hopeful and reassuring actions in the aftermath of Hurricane Harvey and other situations happening throughout the world.
But not yet…..
Now it is time to sit quietly with ancient prayers and fresh coffee as the rays from the rising sun reach through these old oaks and bathe the back porch in soft morning light. And I will stay here, where the morning light dances, as long as it lasts. At least part of this morning’s ancient prayer comes from St. Augustine (354-430) “O Lord, my God, Light of the blind and Strength of the weak; yeah, also, Light of those that see, and Strength of the strong; hearken unto my soul, and hear it crying out of the depths. O Lord, help us to turn and seek Thee; for Thou hast not forsaken Thy creatures as we have forsaken Thee, our Creator. Let us turn and seek Thee, for we know Thou art here in our hearts…..”
The rest of this morning’s prayer is a whisper of overwhelming deep gratitude and thanks from the core of my heart and depths of my soul, sent forth on the morning breeze with true intentions and hopes that it may grow as the rest of this day unfolds.
Be safe out there, everyone. Look out for one another. Saint Augustine, pray for us.
Soon enough it will be time to leave the back porch, but not just yet…..
Sometimes, we find ourselves in just the right spot at just the right time to watch the sunlight reflect off the rippling river and dance back through the overreaching leaves and along the dark branches. The only purpose of this post is to share a short video of just that…..
I hadn’t gone out for photo therapy, I didn’t have a “big” camera with me, so I captured this on my Iphone 6. Y’all should know my motto about cameras: “The best camera is the one in your hand.” This video doesn’t do the scene justice, but I doubt any truly could, but I wanted to share the scene. I hope you are able to enjoy these few seconds of light dancing along the underside of the canopy, and the chorus of frogs and crickets that, perhaps, were there watching the light right along with me.
Today was one of those rare, cooler than normal summer days here. The late July breeze seemed determined to dance with the leaves, swaying the green ones that held firm to their branches, and sending gold and red ones spinning through the air giving us a welcomed and refreshing reminder of autumn. It was the perfect day to go take a stroll alongside the Haw River in Saxapahaw, NC.
A few steps down from the parking lot, and the trail awaits under a dense canopy of full trees.
There are parts of the trail where the sky isn’t clearly visible directly overhead but today that didn’t matter at all, the reflection on the water shows the clouds moving in.
Sometimes, the light shining through the clouds, then reflecting off the leaves and water makes the entire area, even the air, seem golden-green. If today were a color, It would be this shade of green:
A little further along the trail, the clouds have moved and a little more sunlight is reaching through. Early hints of the coming autumn, golden leaves are hiding within the summer green trees, falling, and drifting downstream.
When I was younger, this part of the river was heavily polluted with dyes from textile mills, both here on these banks and upstream. Environmental restoration began several years ago and continues still. Much more information and details can be found on the Haw River Trail website. It’s really quite interesting.
On the return walk, near the end of the trail the silver reflection of the building clouds caught my eye once again. There have been sporadic showers throughout the day, but despite their impressive appearance, the clouds haven’t delivered any severe weather yet.
The stroll was nearly over when I snapped this last photo. Of all the scenes today, I think this one was my favorite.
There are still quiet, peaceful, lovely places in this wonderful world where one can simply watch the river roll and the sun set, and be thankful to be able to appreciate such moments.