In a world that seems to value us more for ‘what we do’ than for ‘who we are’, it can be difficult to accept those times when our lives become less busy, and less defined by a particular role. The empty nest, retrenchment, retirement … all these times threaten our sense of identity. Who am I if not my job, my position in the family, my role in society?

This week, sitting next to a mountain stream, by a quiet pool, I experienced a deep sense of appreciation for this quiet time in my life.

 

the still time

Downstream
of the boisterous years
lies a still pond.
Rest awhile
don’t struggle …

Let all
you’ve carried settle
till the surface
mirrors your
transformed face.

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