Light shining through.

This morning was the hardest time I’ve had meditating for a long time. I felt jittery and achy and unfocused, every minute wanting to look at my watch and get out my body and into my head.

When I look back at my weekend, I feel like I have an inkling as to why: most hours were heavily scripted, with little to no time for me. Don’t get me wrong, I had a lovely time, spending much of the weekend with friends and outdoors. A lovely yoga practice with friends on Saturday, photo-shoot on the Brooklyn waterfront, walk in the park, visiting a restaurant I knew from before the pandemic and which miraculous seems to have moved through with the same attitude and authenticity. Maybe more.

But there was not much time for me. No time to sit quietly and wait for the day’s purpose to emerge. No time for long yoga sessions or reading. On Sunday, I didn’t even take the time to meditate.

There is a lesson in this.

Usually when I think of taking time for me, I think of escaping the chaos that is the world, the bad stuff, the lack of empathy and compassion that is so universally on display in so many places. The violence. Always the violence.

But the world is the world, and we are of it. The good parts - and there are many - need quiet too. In fact, the quiet tends to help me see the good parts shining through. Like light. Shining through. Everything. If only we take the time.