There are times in the hectic routine of our daily lives that we stop feeling deeply. We are very concerned and consumed with survival and staying intact and keeping up and ahead with our to-do lists.
As we move from one task to another, as we move from one event to the next, as we move from one conversation to another we often move as if by rote. And as we are doing one thing we are mentally doing another task in our heads. Recognize the pattern?
There are mornings when I wake up and I immediately begin to plan my day to see what I can keep and what I can remove. I wake to face my yesterday’s procrastinations and today’s unexpected dilemmas. And my mind moves through the course of the next twelve hours--looking at the clock and mentally tabulating how long before my first appointment and my last. I am trying to see just how all the puzzle pieces will possibly fit between. Often they don’t.
Sometimes, just sometimes, something happens and there is an intervention in all of this juggling. A brief moment of something so good and so unexpected…and I am reminded that I can feel deeply. I am quickened. The numbness is pierced. The moment is brief and fleeting. But it is very real.
This moment happened this morning. I listened to an incredible someone play the piano. Just two songs intertwined, but for those few minutes I was transported. Gone was the rote reaction to the day.
I cried this morning. Which of course is nothing new. Anyone who knows me knows that I cry often. This is my nature. I am an emotionally driven person. But, I know my cryings. And this one came from someplace deep in my soul.
Because of these brief moments my day will be different. I will do more than survive.
I thank God for the piano player.