This morning walking in the overcast, the winds light as a caress, the scent of moss and dew somehow eclipsing pavement dust…I feel the pull of flow…and walking, I give into it. And in that flow, I see how obstructed and jarring a day can be.
St. Benedict was on to and into the pull of flow. He found a way to let the day find itself…and so discovered within it, ways to cycle the mind, body, and spirit, giving each its proper due. He found a way to swerve around time jams and walk past its warps and blocks and weave the day into a week and a month and a life. And, I suspect, he had a full schedule, but was never busy.
No one stops the movement of a day. Not Stephen Covey. Not even Joshua. The time capturing mechanisms are all illusory. What we have and what we’re built for is movement and motion, and if we’re not true to that–time is our enemy. So give in to the pull of flow. Look to the river. Or as Bruce Cockburn puts it, “To the motion be true.”
Outside this broad window, a young Trinidadian woman has no idea how perfect her pace keeps rhythm with the song I hear.