When I feel at peace it is because I have let go. I no longer need to be the director of this life. I am content to sit back until I feel moved to step up. I follow. I listen.
And then, predictably, I misstep. I forget. I get tied up in how things should be instead of observing how they are. I was not made to fight, and so when I do I begin to break.
It’s more than I can take.
But I have a neck. It allows me to look left and then right, up and then down. And I have eyes that close, hands that can be steepled in prayer, knees that can lower to the ground. I have choice.
Peace lies gently at my feet. Always.
And there are days when all I want to do is cry. And that’s ok. There are times when I all I can do is complain because it all just sucks so much, and people are cruel and the weather is cold.
But I can crane my neck, open my eyes, hold out my hands and lower my knees. And I can pick up the peace.
It lies gently at my feet. Always.