How to stop being busy and start enjoying this moment
A loving reminder from God, for those of us who sometimes rush through life...
We are drops of God condensed, like dew, on to the leaves of the Tree of Life. Glistening jewels of the Divine, grown so heavy with Light’s Mystery that we cannot help but coalesce into Being.
We are a natural process. Part of an infinite cycle. In the same way that a cloud and ocean are part of the same flow, we are perfectly emplaced.
Should we be racing to reach the edge of our leaf? Aiming to return as soon as possible to the Ocean? Should we rush down the mountainside, hoping that soon, soon, we’ll finally get there?
Well, a river does race. But only when the terrain invites it. Water moves at the speed of gravity. What would our lives be like if we moved at the speed of nature? What would my life be like?
Moving at the speed of life
In my early morning awakenings, I don’t have an alarm. I wake up between 4 and 6am, depending on how late I got to sleep, how well I slept, and how light it is outside. I love this feeling. Trusting my body’s innate knowing. Not the rigid imprisonment of clocks, segmenting life down to the last sharp second. Instead, the perfectly timed blossoming of a flower, embracing the sun’s light with a cup of colourful love.
There’s a self-respect inherent in my natural waking time. It requires an acknowledgment of the impact ‘Nathan of the evening’ has on ‘Nathan of the morning’. I am my own ancestor. My behaviour matters. If I stay up late scrolling or bingeing, there’s another me who pays the price.
I knew this when I was twenty-two, but I didn’t respect myself enough to do it the way I do now. I had a morning shift coming up in the bar where I worked. 9AM start. I decided that that was a problem that Nathan of the morning would have to deal with. Nathan of the evening was going to party.
Now, I do it differently. I make sure my family is well set up. Ready as best we can for a night of rest (a baby gives zero shits about timelines 🥰). I set up my space for the morning… In the evening. Open my writing app, and the playlist I listen to while writing. Lay my journal out, open and ready on a blank page, for my morning pages. Place a candle, lighter, and glass of water beside my journal.
I do these things to honour Nathan of the morning. He is the first to greet the day. He has the hardest task: to overcome apathy, malaise, resistance, and inertia. But when he does… then momentum builds from the beginning. That initial spark ignites the engine of the day. It engenders a humming rhythm, a purring flow. Of capacity, presence, and joy.
In my mornings, I don’t strive to be elsewhere. It’s the opposite. I savour the scratch of my pen across the page. Enjoying the soft glow of candlelight. Delight in the gentle awakening of my world, as day returns. And, on the days when baby wakes earlier than anticipated, or some other thing comes up, I don’t fret. I’ve done my best. There’s always another moment in which to begin again, anew.
What’s the rush? And returning home…
Where do we think we’re going? In our endless, hungry, exhausting pursuit of ‘progress’? What’s the goal? Is rushing going to make our lives any better? When will we stop, pause, observe, and return — oh so naturally — to wonder?
Awe-filled by our remembering that we are drops of God. Coalescing from the ever-present Infinite Oneness. Here for the time it takes to roll off a leaf on the Tree of Life.
If I could say this all in two words, it would be this:
Enjoy now.
Moving at the speed of life
In my early morning awakenings, I don’t have an alarm. I wake up between 4 and 6am, depending on how late I got to sleep, how well I slept, and how light it is outside. I love this feeling. Trusting my body’s innate knowing. Not the rigid emprisonment of clocks, segmenting life down to the last second. Instead, the perfectly timed blossoming of a flower, embracing the sun’s light with a cup of colourful love.
There’s a self-respect inherent in my natural waking time. It requires an acknowlegment of the impact ‘Nathan of the evening’ has on ‘Nathan of the morning’. I am my own ancestor. My behaviour matters. If I stay up late scrolling or bingeing, there’s another me who pays the price.
I knew this when I was twenty-two, but I didn’t respect myself enough to do it how i do now. I had a morning shift coming up in the bar I was working in. 9AM start. I decided that that was a problem that Nathan of the mornign would have to deal with. Nathan of the vening was going to party.
Now, I do it differently. I make sure my family is well set up. Ready as best we can for a night of rest (a baby gives zero shits about timelines 🥰). I set up my space for the morning…In the evening. I open my writing app, and the playlist I listen to while writing. I lay my journal out, open and ready on a blank page, for my morning pages. I place a candle, lighter, and glass of water beside my journal.
I do these things to honour Nathan of the morning. He is the first to greet the day. He has, in some ways, the hardest task: to overcome apathy, malaise, resistance, and inertia. But when he does…momentum builds from the beginning. That initial spark starts the engine of the day. It creates a humming sense of flow. Of capacity. Presence, and joy.
In my mornings, I don’t strive to be elsewhere. It’s the opposite. Savouring the scratch of my pen across the page. Enjoying the soft glow of candlelight. Experiencing the gentle awakening of my world, as day returns. And, when baby wakes earlier than anticipated. Or some other thing comes up. I don’t fret. I’ve done my best. There’s always another moment in which to begin again, anew.
What’s the rush? And returning home…
Where do we think we’re going? In our endless, hungry, exhausting pursuit of ‘progress’? What’s the goal? Is rushing going to make our lives any better? When will we stop, pause, observe, and return - oh so naturally - to wonder?
Awe-filled by our remembering that we are drops of God. Coalescing from the ever-present Infinite Oneness. Here for the time it takes to roll off a leaf on the Tree of Life.
If I could say this all in two words, it would be this:
Enjoy now.
PS: why is this a message from God? Because the first 4 paragraphs of this writing arrived in my head fully formed. I felt them coalesce into me from that place Beyond. The creative juiciness of All That Is. What I mean is: it’s from God, because that’s who told it to me.