"Don't Cut…"
Welcome. And here's to the waning days of July. We are now in the second half of the year—although it may not feel like it. To me, from here on in, time seems to speed up—which can have us all racing ahead and feeling more than a little crunched.
And the remedy? To take our time. So I thought it would be a good time to reset and reconsider how we choose to address a moment. Is it something that we charge through so we don't have to deal with it? feel the emotions of it? consider the fallout from it? Do we hunker down and just get through it at
whatever cost (note that phrase) so we're not affected by it?
Yes—there are moments when a "hard cut" is necessary—when quick severance is the only option. Yet how often do those moments really exist in our lives? How often do we plow through something just to get it done, over with,
checked off our to do list?
When I find My Self in the throes of that loop, I take a moment and recall the image of my grandmother oh so patiently working with a tangled ball of yarn. Instead of reaching for the shears and snipping away, she would deliberately, slowly, quietly
address each knot. When one was undone, she'd move onto the next one. No careless hurry. Total presence. And the end result? A complete ball of yarn that she could easily use again—to knit or crochet with.
What if we do the same practice in our lives? What if we take the time to
unwind, unravel, untie a moment? What if we "Don't Cut…" (2:28) instead?