reflections from bermuda #2
The thunder sounds like applause rippling across the gray Bermudian sky. Clapping for us here at Paget Parish—
away from the rush of the normal day. Read. Rest. Write. Those are the words I heard this morning in my quiet time. Today I have slept the sleep of the drugged—washed over by the cool sea breeze until the blowing rain prohibited leaving the balcony door open.
Lines are imprinted on my face like that of a sleeping child awakened too soon from an afternoon slumber. The skies continue to rumble and soon my stomach will join in for I have slept away half of the day and it is now well past lunchtime. Read. Rest. Write. Today it is heaven.
At present I do not mind that the sky has gone gray providing cover from the brilliant sun. It is so quiet; even the birds have retreated for a while. I imagine their feathers full and heavy from the summer rain. Maybe they, too, are napping on this glorious overcast day.
If it stays this way for the week will I still call it glorious? I hear the applause of the sky again. The majesty of God. The rumbling of the universe. I need rest. My stack of books awaits me and my computer sits nearby ready to transcribe my handwritten notes. Read. Rest. Write. Rejuvenate.
I am called to marry the week of holy work before with a week of wonder at this paradise around me. The yin and the yang. Both were entered into without concern for clock or schedules. Small boundaries to keep things in check: hunger, exhaustion, laughter, overload. The cycle of day and night.
It is magic when we can connect to our natural cycle. Today mine is read, rest, write. The thunder sounds like applause confirming my choice. Amen.