Be a “deer”
I don’t think I would be able to go on working if I had not begun to look for little bits of joy in every day. Taking a few minutes to pull the weeds in my garden or just take a walkabout and enjoy the birds and the plants.
Each day before I head off to work, I go outside and sit in the back yard and watch my pups run amok and bark at anything that moves. The birds are usually out, enjoying the cool of the early morning. The pink hue of the sunrise just peeking through the trees fills me up. These few minutes are so restorative. They give me the strength to face the day. When I am at my desk at work feeling the tension creep in, I try to get up and take a walk and look out the window. Even from afar, nature can comfort me.
I had once shared a story with my husband, about spending time in Austin with my grandparents. We would take drives at dusk looking for deer. The sun would just be dipping down, casting everything in shadows, with the windows down and warm air hitting our smiling faces. My grandfather, Daddy John, would drive down the side roads going as slow as possible. This was quiet time for him as well as us. The quiet only interrupted when we would see little deer enjoying the evening stillness and protection of the coming night. Seeing those deer brought us so much joy. The thought that this part of nature is here, it is just hidden, waiting for us to slow down and enjoy. Then, just as the sky would turn dark, my Daddy John would quickly begin a rendition of “Flies in the Buttermilk….Skip to My Lou My Darling” that would leave us all in fits of giggles and joy.
My husband had an idea to try to recreate this experience with evening golf cart ride at dusk. The golf course near us is surrounded by many houses but in a few places, it is surrounded by land protected by the corp of engineers next to the lake. A night or two ago, we were rewarded with the sighting of 11 deer. This was a record, normally we only see one or two.
I am thankful for these daily joys. Though I have yet to get Paul to sing “Skip to My Lou”.
Working Hard on Hardly Working 