Writing and sending a blog on wonder, stillness, and play in December was my plan. I had led a workshop at St. Stephen’s Episcopal. We discussed where we find wonder as I shared the idea in Celtic spirituality of “thin places” where the veil between this world and the next is translucent. Call it a sacred moment, a break from busy doing, an opening for grateful wakefulness. This super group needed no further prompting and took off with terrific insights. Nature, music, and worship were among the many answers. I discussed that stillness comes from cultivating that internal relationship with our own deep- down goodness. That essential dimension of ourselves is always with us ‘though often neglected. Finally, as we find a refuge for ourselves, we can offer refuge to others. And then we practiced yoga with a playful, curious spirit.
Then, I regretfully turned off my sense of wonder and stillness, and maybe play for that matter, cranking up for the arrival of my beloved out of town daughters and son-in-law. Meal planning, grocery shopping, online buying, phone calls, emails, text messages, flight status updates – all leading up to the holiday itself. It was a glorious and busy time of sharing meals, playing games, watching movies, swapping cars, attending Christmas eve service, gathering with extended family– it was lovely to have the house full and alive with conversation. It was exhilarating. It was heartwarming. It was even tense at times when I gave uninvited advice or my facial expression betrayed my feelings. Isn’t that the stuff of family life? There was play, a lot of love, very little stillness.