2/28/2022
1 minute, 54 seconds
Missionary Jim Elliot once said, “Wherever you are, be all there.”
I learned this lesson many years ago, tumbling down a staircase with my baby girl in one arm, my cell phone in the other, mid-conversation with my director. Other than an enormous carpet burn on my elbow, everything was alright.
Except it wasn’t all right. I had been sensing a growing unsettledness within my heart as I spun way too many plates, multi-tasking as I raced through my days.
Slumped on the bottom step, I abruptly hung up on my director and cried softly as I carefully evaluated my unscathed daughter, kissing her little head and face and hands over and over again. Then, impulsively, I hurled my cell phone through the window.
I was marked by this moment (and so was my window!). I decided right then and there as I sat on the floor, rocking and stroking my sweet baby girl, I wanted to live my days with an undivided heart. Wherever I was, I wanted to be all there.
Like most life lessons, we have to go back to the classroom for a refresher course every once in a while.
Last week, strolling on a paved trail in life-giving warmth, I had the love of my life on my left and the dog of my dreams on my right. However, this particular morning, I was in many places besides that 40-minute slice of Floridian heaven.
My mind was whirling with worrying, and I was “borrowing trouble from tomorrow” as I verbally processed the weeks ahead. Consequently, words that unsettled me further tumbled from my mouth. Nothing was fixed by this verbal exhale. I merely spun in mental circles, making my already unsteady heart more unsteady.
I can recall peeling layers from my body that morning as the sun shone gloriously warmer by the minute. I remember our pace being rather peppy (probably due to how fast I was talking!). I barely noticed, but certainly did not savor, the smell of greenness and life around us.
A few hours later, I realized, though my sneakers had been engaging with the pavement on an okay walk, I had entirely missed the potential for a fantastic walk with my favorite walking companions. Unlike other mornings, I hadn’t delighted in the simple richness of what was all around me or who I was with. And I regretted it.
Our puppy Phoebe epitomizes living in the moment. She was “all there” every morning on our warm walks. She pounced in delight on blowing leaves and seemingly smiled up at us as she joyfully trotted beside us as we murmured repeatedly, “You’re a sweet puppy!” She was not thinking about how far we had yet to walk, or the drink of water that she would need when we got back to the car, or that her furry-footed-sheepadoodle paws would need to be combed and brushed to get all the burrs out when we got home. Instead, she was delighting in each successive moment.
Phoebe was also “all there” every time we took her to the dog beach, where she delighted in digging a hole in the sand and then relished her comfortable spot from where she took in the glorious sights, sounds, and smells all around her.
Wherever Phoebe is, she’s all there. And I want to be, too.