I have a theory about this. (I have a theory about most things. I think I get it from my mom...) When you're two, one day equals about 1/730 of your life. It's a big deal. You remember every little thing. At the moment, one day of my life equals 1/11,680. Days just pass by. Weeks pass by. Months pass by. And most of the time, I have a hard time remembering what I did yesterday.
The last month has been a good one, filled to the brim with things that don't include work (although, as usual, I did work a lot.). I had visitors in town -- including one of my dearest friends from Brussels. I went to a jazz club, where grandma that I am, I couldn't keep my eyes open and had to leave hours before my 60-year-old friend. I went to see a play. I went to museums. I walked all over London town. I visited with good friends in Oxford, where I ate at a Michelin-starred restaurant in the middle of nowhere, took a long, meandering country walk and went strawberry and asparagus picking. I went out with friends to delicious dinners. I went to yoga. I walked through blossoming parks. I went lawn bowling in Hyde Park to celebrate the birthdays of very precious friends. Life has been full. So full that I sometimes forgot to thank God for the many blessings He's given me. So full that I always forgot to write -- though true to my nature, I did feel guilty about it...
It is easy for me in the midst of this fullness to just go quickly through my days. To not stop and enjoy life. To enjoy exactly where I'm at and the people I'm with and the passing of time and seasons. As Ferris Bueller once said: Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.
So I'm back from my little hiatus, hoping to take a few moments each day to stop and look around. To be thankful for the small things that make up my life during this season in London, where like the trees and plants all around me, I feel myself changing and growing into a fuller version of myself and who I am meant to be.
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