It’s been many months since I last sat down to write.

My previous blog, A Pause Between Chapters: The Gift Within Divorce, shared some of the most difficult and transformative years of my life. I wrote about loss, healing, horses, nature and the unexpected gifts that can emerge from heartbreak. At the time, I was learning how to survive. I was learnhing who I was apart from the roles I had held for decades. I was finding my footing again.

But then what happens after survival?

What happens when the crisis has passed, the tears are not as frequent, or almost non existent and life no longer feels like something you have to fight your way through?

Recently, I found myself sitting quietly in a field watching the sunset. There was nowhere I needed to be and nothing I needed to do. I was simply present with the beauty of the moment.

As I sat there, a bumble bee buzzed softly near me, and then there was nothing. Where did it go? I then felt a tickle on my bare foot.

At first, I felt a slight apprehensiveness. My first instinct was to move, to protect myself, and to make it leave. But then deep within me, I felt the need to just stay put, and allow. I took a breath, calming my whole being, and remained still and observed what my new little friend was up to.

For the next several minutes, that little bee wandered around my foot as if it had no where else to be. It wasn’t in a hurry. It wasn’t trying to accomplish anything. It was simply being.

Eventually, it lifted off, made a few circles around me, and flew away.

I sat and pondered on what just took place. As strange as it may sound to others, for me, it was truly a life lesson.

For so much of my life, I have been planning, working, fixing, helping, healing, striving, and moving toward the next thing. Yet in that moment, the bee reminded me that there is wisdom in simply being fully present. There is true beauty in surrendering to the moment rather than trying to control it.

Sometimes we don’t need to do more.

Sometimes we just simply need to be.

A day or two later, I came across an old house standing quietly on a golf course nearby. I figured it must be at least a hundred years old. Beautifully weathered by time, yet still standing strong in structure. Bright yellow flowers and deep green grass surrounds it, creating a scene that was unexpectedly beautiful on that warm spring day.

I found myself wondering about the stories that old wooden structure could tell if it could speak.

I imagined the joyful laughter it may have heard. The soft tears it may have witnessed. The day dreams that may have lived within its walls.

It truly reminded me that we are all like that old weathered unique looking house.

Each and every day of our lives becomes part of our story we create. Some chapters are filled with immense joy and laughter, while others hold loss, change, uncertainty and growth. Every experience leaves its solid imprint.

Yet no matter what has taken place before, we only ever truly have today.

Yesterday is our memories.

Tomorrow is a possiblity.

And today is where life is actually happening. This very moment.

I believe that this is what the season of my life is teaching me.

Not how to survive.

Not how to heal.

But how to be present. Fully present in all that I do.

To sit with a magnificent sunset.

To welcome natures bumble bees.

To appreciate a unique old weathered house and the stories it holds.

To trust that this moment, exactly as it is, is enough.

After years of learning how to survive, I am finally learning the gift of simply being.

Or perhaps, just bee-ing.

From my little corner of the world,

Sue

P.S. “Realize deeply that the present moment is all you ever have.” — Eckhart Tolle

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