Drifting, called home.
At dawn: a table, a chair, a lamp, a book. Quiet reading before the day.
The words on the page, harder and harder to follow as my thoughts flee outside into the square. I scarcely know what I am looking at.
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Over and over, I drift.
Lord, bring my thoughts back to this room, this time, now. Over and over, bring me back.
This is its own form of rescue. Deliver me into this moment, Lord.
– from the mountain
Consider:
Where today do I need to be brought back?
Reading:
“You do not need to leave your room. Remain sitting at your table and listen. Do not even listen, simply wait.” — Franz Kafka
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“Each time you return, you practice the art of coming home to yourself.” — Thich Nhat Hanh
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“Be still, and know that I am God.” — Psalm 46:10 (KJV)
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