The Eyelash Whisperer
At first I didn’t feel it. It was so light - as not even the softest of an air wisp. Then I felt it again. The wisp of eyelashes coming in contact with my chest as they opened and closed. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this feeling before. I let it be luxuriated in.
This was yet another incredible gift on top of a day spent practicing presence at the invitation of a not-quite-two-year-old. Again and again he would pause, glance at me to see if I was attending to him and then runoff. It became our little game. The soft plans to clean up the garage became distant; I released them readily, delighting in the unspoken invitation to play. Plans readily released to this most important little person.
He explored and I observed. He drove the toy John Deere tractor my children had driven when they were his age, scooting across the concrete. We took a long walk. His four fingers clasped around one of mine. He would stop in the middle of our walk, as if to see if I would stop also. I did. I smiled and waited for him to decide it was time to go on... or not.
During one of these pause moments, his eyes locked mine as a smile illuminated his entire person and we knew we were connected. There is nothing else I could have done today that would’ve connected me more to the Divine. Any other plans can wait. I spent so much of my children’s childhood focused on planning, doing, and I missed out. I spent so much of my prior years focused on my plans regardless of what else might be presented. I missed out. The conclusion is that it is too limiting to miss out on what is right in front of me. I have come to a place where I do not need to be focused on plans. I could have arrived here years and years ago, but it was not my time. I might have arrived 20 years later than now, yet that too would not be my time.
Yesterday I focused on the future so much that I missed what was there for me to journey with. Old habitual ways can take a long time to dissolve. Perhaps this old pattern is dissolving more quickly.
My fervent desire as we move into this new decade is to feel every single eyelash that creates the slightest, almost imperceptible whisper across my chest; to be attuned to God’s whisper. To accept the invitation of feeling the eyelash whispers. May you, too, invite less planning and more being with what is, more of honoring the eyelash whispers however and wherever they appear.