It is all so simple
on slowness, miracles, and presence
I sit to write on the porch of a cozy little cabin in the woods. There is a quiet peacefulness that is hard to replicate here — birds chirping, the sweet scent of fresh air, wind swirling, trees dancing, the soft whoosh of a distant passing golf cart, the faint hum of people chatting.
I’ve returned to the community I lived and worked in the last two summers. Only this time, I’m here for a 5-day residency. There’s something incredibly spacious about being here, in this place that has deeply molded me, without the work obligations.
There is space to just be, presently. To feel, and witness, and work on my projects in quiet clarity and joy.
I have so much to say about this residency, about seeing myself clearly (and all the ways that I don’t), about seeing familiar faces that ooze with warmth and approval, about being back here on this land.
And yet, I don’t have much to say at all.
For now, I am mostly thinking about how easeful it all gets to be. How, in the slowness of this daily cadence, I find the right words, the right movement, the right breath. Everything is a miracle, and it is all so simple.
There is magic in observing my friends shuffling through the dining hall line to plate their food, strolling through the lush garden, cackling over lunch, smelling the bee balm, sitting in the quiet.
And in the quiet is where I hear myself, feel what’s alive. Being here is a reminder in why slowness is medicine I’m in service to.
No rushing, no doing, no forcing — just being, allowing, softening, opening.
May we all continue to find quiet clarity in the soft slowness of our ever-evolving unfolding.
Leaving you all with some Beverly Glenn-Copeland for your day — thank you for reading Sacred Attention.
<3
Christie