Sunflowers grow a plenty where Dana and I live. This one (and several others) from a walk earlier this week, enveloped a sidewalk near a new-home construction. I love these sunflowers for their persistence in Utah’s hot summers. It seems so enduring. And, I love them for their splashes of radiant yellow, little beacons of beauty amidst the hot and brown and dry. I love them for the way they sway and dance in the wind, most growing 3-4 feet of lanky stem.

Wander Wednesday

— I’m inviting practice. Be it for five or fifty minutes today. Give the prompt below a bit of your attention. Let insight come. Random associations. Application at any scale welcomed (the big stuff of world happenings; the small stuff of sunflowers). Application at any domain welcomed (the work stuff of projects; the personal stuff of life lifing).

Just sit with the question. Or walk with it. Let your noticing be gentle for this five or fifty minutes, as if nothing else were beckoning. Maybe there is an insight, the tiniest of aha, that will show itself to you. Or an intuition, a hunch that you’ve known inside for quite a while, but have been hesitant to say out loud. Or a joy. Or a mini-rest from your very busy mind. Or a reset for all of the other stuff that is surely still demanding your speed.

What is a gift of slowing down for you?

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Here’s my reflection. As is so often true for me, it’s a collage. What is a gift of slowing down for me? I need to experience a generosity of time. Generosity of spirt really. Not a rush, like so many things are. Not a missing of things, which is always true and compels my tenacity. Rather, a completeness in the moment. All is well for these five minutes. There is enough. I’m enough. Slowing down reminds me of something deeper and more grounded, already in me.

You’re welcome to leave a comment, your gift. Or just do it privately. It all stirs to the same pot.

I structure programs on Wander. It’s my Becoming & Belonging Series. You’ll have a few options. Jump in.