It’s Friday night at 10pm, and I have just spent the last half-hour coloring. Yep, crayons, a Victorian House coloring book, some good tunes, and me . . . thirty of the most calming minutes I’ve had in a while.
Sometimes I think we really have lost something since we shunted away most of our time doing physical tasks that require little thought. Yesterday as I washed windows, today as I colored, I found myself sinking into this place of deep peace, the place that reminds me that I don’t have to figure it all out, that I can’t figure it all out.
The rough waters of my spirit settle during this kind of work (if I can call coloring “work”). My mind flows on, but I don’t engage. Instead, I stare at the page and try to stay within the lines set before me on that book (I was coloring a picture of a library – I know, surprise, huh?). I don’t have to figure out what color to shade the walls yet. When I’m ready for that, the right crayon will be there. There’s peace in that.
This is what my best yoga teachers have tried to teach me – that the mind can work through things without me rising into the anxiety that comes with too much active thinking. To just see the thought and let it go by, to work its way back into the shuffle. I’m not very good at this.
This is what my best Teacher has tried to teach me. “Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now.” I’m not good at learning from that Teacher either.
But when I have just enough to occupy my mind, I find that space where the thoughts go by like clouds. I find myself absolutely engrossed in filling in the lines of today’s pages – those I’m writing and those I’m living. To stay just within those lines. Today’s lines. There’s peace in that.