Sunday Morning’s Sacred Gifts

Quiet solitude, Sunday morning blessings

It’s Sunday morning. I wake up and feel the gift of the day before me. Although I am retired and no longer following the schedule of my working days, there is still something special and sacred about a Sunday morning.

I have been doing chores and find myself grateful for the ability to still do those life routines. It is a gift that I do not want to take for granted. I can still change the linens (and look forward to the delight of slipping into freshly laundered sheets at the end of the day), do the rest of the laundry, try and get some of the tree sap off my old beloved car, tighten some screws on the wooden enclosure in my yard. Little things that seem so trivial. Little things that will help me feel better and add to my feeling of self-care. Little things that keep me engaged in life. Things that help me feel that I can still navigate my life with competence. Even if more slowly than before. That’s ok. 

I find, as I continue this aging part of my life, that it is not so much the big things that I used to think were the all-important markers of worth and value, but the everyday tasks and routines. The simple things. The gifts of living life in my own body (the body that I have shamed and criticized so much, yet this body that has served me so beautifully and faithfully), in my own mind (what gifts it brings me with thoughts and ideas and learning), in my own spirit and the indescribable gift of that spirit being me and yet so much more than me.

I connect with friends and neighbors and am delighted. I need those connections. To feel included, loved, seen, and heard. 

Yet, what has always been true for me, is that the connection that I need the most of all is the connection to myself, and to the Divine within and all around. The Divine in the earth, in its creatures, plants, and trees. The Divine of the birds’ songs in the morning. The Divine of the quiet moments before the world begins to wake up, the time I can more clearly hear that Whisper reminding me of who I am. I find that I don’t need to question where that Whisper comes from. I simply need to let it be, and appreciate its presence. I marvel in awe and wonder.

Being older has taught me to see value where I rushed by before, eager to get to the important things. My definition of what is important has changed. I am grateful to be able to see and feel that.

This week has been a bit more challenging for me. I have been sad, which is not an uncommon experience for me. It is one that I work to not judge negatively, but to welcome and ask what it has to tell me, teach me, point out to me.

 I appreciate the experience of melancholy. The joy becomes so much sweeter in comparison. The depth of my sadness seems to carve room inside me for the depth of that joy. 

I feel sad about recent losses, about losses that I know are coming. Loss is ever more part of life as we age. 

Awareness of the loss of our own life, as we know it, looms larger each year. 

I feel sad about adventures not taken, and use this as a reminder to take those that are still available to me. There is yet life to be lived, tasted, enjoyed and marveled at. 

 I feel sad about words not spoken, and hear the reminder within me to speak now where and when I can. I still have my voice, and it is time to use it more, and time to use it wisely. I delight in hearing it and feeling it rise within me. To choose which battles I may need to engage in and which to not accept the invitation for. The balance of that changes as well as I age.

 Letting go becomes more the theme music of my life. Letting go helps me appreciate what is still here, what I still can experience, enjoy, and be a part of. And letting go of what does not deserve my precious time. Precious time that grows short. Let me spend it wisely.

So, on this Sunday morning, as I continue the chores and tasks that feel so good to get done, I am also grateful for the other gifts that today will bring. 

I will spend some time with my neighbor next door for our monthly happy hour. After living next to each other for over 20 years, now finally able to truly get to know each other since we no longer have the crazy, exhausting work schedules that took all our energy and time. Better late than never. 

I will finish the chores that I have planned for today. How delightful that feels.

I will work on a piece of art that I want to finish. I am trying something completely different with this piece. I found a large piece of palm bark at the zoo where I volunteer. And this piece of bark called to me, its shape reminding me of the majestic elephants that I get to spend time with every week. I will share a photo of it when I complete it. It’s such a joy to let myself simply express ideas that I have and not worry about the result or whether I even know what I am doing. I can learn. And I can play. Isn’t that the point? 

I am happy to be writing this and sharing it with all of you. Yet another part of my spirit that comes out more these days, the writing, the part of me that never went away, even when I didn’t feel that I had the time. To connect more with that voice within me. To be able to share thoughts and feelings with you, to perhaps help someone else feel a little less alone for a moment on this journey that we are all on together. 

So, I will go through this day and breathe into each moment. I am here and alive and able to experience it. 

What sacred Sunday morning gifts.