Distractions and where I dwell.

So Holy Week happened, then Easter, then three incredibly busy days and then a long weekend in Melbourne…and now my goal is to get back in routine and part of routine is actually to get back to this sadly neglected blog.

I’m out of routine and once again it’s the important stuff that’s fallen off the radar: my kitchen is clean (ish – I’m not looking too closely at the floor), my desk at work is neat and my to-do list triaged and prioritised. My fridge and pantry are stocked and my bills are virtuously paid.

Here’s what I haven’t done, though: I haven’t been writing. I haven’t been journaling. I haven’t been dwelling in my creativity – my notebook has been in its pocket in my backpack for days, and hasn’t seen the light of day or felt the touch of my fingers, let alone my pen. And of course – because it always seems to be the first to go – my spirituality has well and truly dropped off the radar. When was the last time I sought solitude to sit quietly with my rosary and allow the gentle repetitions of prayer to still my mind of all its distractions? When was the last time I turned my whirring thoughts downwards and inwards, towards the Sacred in which I dwell? When was the last time a prayer came unbidden to my heart?

It’s understandable, of course, and it makes sense: it’s been busy, one lovely, life-giving and life-affirming demand after another: friends, singing, a wonderful trip to Melbourne for three golden days of friendship with family. A job I love despite its tendency to get in my face; a thousand things that need to be done, dealt with, sorted out. And a bag to unpack and books to be read and a blog to be re-started and a music list to look at before rehearsal on Friday…

I notice a difference in myself when I do take the time to allow my mind to still, do choose to step away from the distractions – beautiful ones, stressful ones, ones that bring their own blessing to my already rich life – and rest, just briefly, in the cloud of the Creator, in my Source. It’s something I need to do again, a routine I need to get back to. I need to remind myself of the Ground of my being, and I need to re-learn to be supported in that.

Either way, though – whether I’m conscious of it or not – I dwell within the Sacred. I can no more be separate from it than I could be separate from the air that fills my lungs, through which I move, which surrounds me in all that I do. I am not apart from the Source of my creation – I just need to do a better job at being conscious of that.

An extra few hours in a day wouldn’t go astray, though…

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