“It is necessary … for a man to go away by himself … to sit on a rock … and ask, ‘Who am I, where have I been, and where am I going?”
― Carl Sandburg
Some people have yoga. Some people have walking, or running, or meditation. Some people dance. Some people drive around in their cars for a while to clear their head.
I swim- five miles, every day. It’s my time for gathering my thoughts, for checking in with my body, for closing out the world and all the distractions and focusing on the moment. It’s not only good for my body, but it’s great for my soul.
Sometimes after I’m done swimming, I sit by the side of the pool and dip my feet in and just unwind for a few minutes.
Today I did that, and I started to think about the idea of “reflection” and what it meant to me. It’s something I don’t do enough of. I send a great deal of time lost in anxiety, or reviewing the past with a critical eye. But simply “reflecting” upon life as it is, without coloring it with judgement or concern? I rarely do that.
As I was mulling things over, the water in the swimming pool grew still. I looked down at the surface of the water and the water had grown so still that it literally reflected the sky above- a deep blue sky, with fluffy white clouds slowly passing by. I watched the reflection for a while. Then I gently flexed my legs, the water stirred up, and the reflection disappeared.
It made me realize something- reflection requires stillness.
Reflection requires a pause.
Reflection requires a moment of non-activity.
Reflection requires just a few moments of slowing down, stopping, and then a few moments of looking and listening.
I’m the kind of person who has always equated “doing” with living a life of value. But as I get older, I’m tarting to realize that living a full life requires a lot less “doing” and a lot more “being”.
So as we move into the winter season, I am taking a vow to make time for reflection- to take time out from life’s chaos and simply sit and observe. To look and listen. To see what life is truly offering.
Chel Micheline is a mixed-media artist, curator, writer, and avid gardener/reader/swimmer who lives in Southwest Florida with her husband and daughter. When Chel’s not making art or pondering the Bliss Habits, she’s blogging at gingerblue.com (come say hi!) or posting new things in the gingerblue etsy shop.