Solid

I'm trying to write more, so I've made time in my mornings to write, to think, to be still. There's a place down the lane where I can go and I'm visually shielded from the man-made world. It's the other side of the cedar tree. I go and just stand there and look and listen. I'm practicing stillness. I'm not very good at it yet, but I figure if I keep practicing, I'll get better.

The first day I just stood there. After awhile I realized the earth was solid under my feet. I was surprised at what a relief that was. I've been going, going, going for months, really busy, feeling like I had to "make it all happen."

But in that moment I realized I don't have to make the earth solid. It's just there, always there, under my feet. The source of my sustenance, my life. I don't have to create it. I don't have to "make it happen." It's just there—always there—under my feet.