Resting Into What Is

In yoga today, I caught a glimpse of my aging, crepey arms and thought — well, there’s a juxtaposition for you -aging body in child’s pose.

Relaxing into what is.
Accepting aging, accepting change, embracing this exact moment.
Keeping things in perspective.

Because while I was noticing the small shifts in my own body, Israeli hostages and Palestinian prisoners were being released — people finally going home to their loved ones. In that light, my arms, my impatience, my little storms of angst all soften into something smaller, almost mercifully so. For a time, I can see clearly. And breathe.

The Peace of Wild Things

by Wendell Berry

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief.
I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.