I Am Well. It is Well. All is Well.
Re-entries from vacations are always hard. At least for me.
I spent two weeks visiting loved ones, walking several beaches for hours, generally disconnected from the news and media. It was heaven!
I lived in an alternative universe. One where all was well...
I came back to a generally quiet week of doing laundry, catching up with household chores and getting re-acquainted with my previous rhythm. I relished the silence and lack of appointments and commitments to slowly gather my bearings, coming back to a very different plane of existence.
I had a week to re-adjust with a lot of time to walk, reflect, write, and meditate - gratefully living the life of a true contemplative. Luckily, I have one more week of relative quiet, and then I hit the ground running with a flurry of activities as the summer fades and I head into the fall.
I reminded myself almost hourly to breathe. Every day as soon as I awoke, I expressed gratitude for the experiences and connections I was able to make during my time away. Often, I found myself repeating the sentence:
Two friends celebrated birthdays during my visit - and ironically, this sentence, from a well known hymn played a part in both celebrations.
One of my friends, a liturgical musician as I was, many moons ago, asked me if I knew the story behind this hymn, which I did not.
She told me that the man who authored this hymn, Horatio Spafford, a successful lawyer, lost all his children on a transatlantic voyage in 1873. His wife was salvaged from the ocean, in unimaginable grief from losing all her children. Eventually the Spaffords had more children, and after the birth of the first of this second set, Horatio Spafford wrote the hymn, "It is Well With My Soul."
I found myself repeating this sentence all week, like a sacred mantra. It fed my body and nourished my spirit. It was impregnated into the very fabric of my existence.
Today, I walked quietly in the cleansing, and gently falling rain, and instead these words arose in my heart, replacing the mantra that I had repeated over and over again, during my vacation and my soft yet challenging re-entry:
I gave thanks for this day and new week. For all that has gone before me. The blessings. And the challenges. I expressed gratitude for what is to come. For the unknowns. And for all that is good and all that may be heart-breaking.
I walked in the rain, and with each step, my footprints fell into a sweet cadence:
I spent two weeks visiting loved ones, walking several beaches for hours, generally disconnected from the news and media. It was heaven!
I lived in an alternative universe. One where all was well...
I came back to a generally quiet week of doing laundry, catching up with household chores and getting re-acquainted with my previous rhythm. I relished the silence and lack of appointments and commitments to slowly gather my bearings, coming back to a very different plane of existence.
I had a week to re-adjust with a lot of time to walk, reflect, write, and meditate - gratefully living the life of a true contemplative. Luckily, I have one more week of relative quiet, and then I hit the ground running with a flurry of activities as the summer fades and I head into the fall.
I reminded myself almost hourly to breathe. Every day as soon as I awoke, I expressed gratitude for the experiences and connections I was able to make during my time away. Often, I found myself repeating the sentence:
"It is well with my soul."
Two friends celebrated birthdays during my visit - and ironically, this sentence, from a well known hymn played a part in both celebrations.
One of my friends, a liturgical musician as I was, many moons ago, asked me if I knew the story behind this hymn, which I did not.
She told me that the man who authored this hymn, Horatio Spafford, a successful lawyer, lost all his children on a transatlantic voyage in 1873. His wife was salvaged from the ocean, in unimaginable grief from losing all her children. Eventually the Spaffords had more children, and after the birth of the first of this second set, Horatio Spafford wrote the hymn, "It is Well With My Soul."
I found myself repeating this sentence all week, like a sacred mantra. It fed my body and nourished my spirit. It was impregnated into the very fabric of my existence.
Today, I walked quietly in the cleansing, and gently falling rain, and instead these words arose in my heart, replacing the mantra that I had repeated over and over again, during my vacation and my soft yet challenging re-entry:
"I am well.
It is well.
All is well."
I gave thanks for this day and new week. For all that has gone before me. The blessings. And the challenges. I expressed gratitude for what is to come. For the unknowns. And for all that is good and all that may be heart-breaking.
I walked in the rain, and with each step, my footprints fell into a sweet cadence:
I am well.
It is well.
All is well.
Photo by Veronica Martinez
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