Beginnings
require a letting go
releasing grief’s tears
who nourish the soil
coaxing seed from its casing
as life sprouts anew.
Beginnings
mark endings
the two dancing in step
affirming and erasing the other all
at once
blending and fusing until they are
indistinguishable
leaving growth in their wake
making growth all that matters
Beginnings
allow what was to recede
what is
becoming clear
as what
could be emerges
The first drops hit my skin.
I thought it was just sweat. I was running after all.
Then a few more.
I looked up. A sunny NM morning, no clouds and definitely no
rain clouds above me.
I knew it was going to be a special day.
Rain without clouds was a sign. The fact that I am starting
to run again, 4 months from the calf injury was another.
I got home, took off my blue Running Medicine shirt and put
on a yellow Running Medicine shirt.
I spent the next hour with a group called Addict 2 Athlete
(A2A), helping to lead a workout at a local park. Great energy, with all of us
healing and recovering together through an intense workout.
Sped home, and took out my 3rd Running Medicine shirt
of the day, this one a maroon color. Off to coach my son and our Running
Medicine basketball team in the county rec league.
Then off to cheer on our RM team at the regional track meet.
No shirt change this time.
I guess the theme for today’s piece could be “A morning in
the life of a mover” or “Anthony is a bit different”, but let’s go back to the
raindrops and those small gifts that each day gives.
Some of the gifts in your day today, like the raindrops from
nowhere, will be unexpected and unexplainable.
Look for those today.
Embrace them when they come.
Spend a moment to enjoy the gift, stepping back from
computer and anything else that might distract you from gratitude.
Find someone to share the gift, the amazement with. In my
case, the rain drops led to a conversation with another trail-goer as
we shared a moment of awe and wonder.
May rain fall from nowhere for/on us today.
May we be present enough to notice it when it does.
