I wasn't so lost in thought, however, that I missed the vast and silent beauty stretching out before me. In fact, the sheerness of air, the distinct layers of land, and the myriad of colors did more than take my breath away. They also reminded me how insignificant my problems are; how eternal the purity of nature is; how gracious and generous our Creator is; and how incapable I am of naming every shade or texture or shape that graces the landscape. The moon, pregnant with possibility, lent a new sense of purpose to my journey. I felt less foolish, more hopeful. I pulled the car over, prayers of thanksgiving on my lips, and sat in wonder, just soaking it all in. Then I leapt out, dug through my luggage, and found my camera.
Deciding to take time out to simply breathe is more than token gratitude. Most days, it is a matter of survival, determining our levels of response and our abilities to face new challenges. Although I'd love to say I daily practice yoga and deep breathing and, yes, even spinning, the truth is that I often forsake exercise & meditation and opt instead for frantic coping, moments of clarity, and those precious detours that remind me how to breathe.