i'm sitting outside on my front porch right now.
it's twilight...the sun has set, but darkness hasn't fully taken over.
the birds are still singing, flying about, gathering the last bugs and seeds and blades of grass for a quick meal before heading to their nests for the evening.
the wind is stirring the tops of the trees, ushering in what's sure to be another thunderstorm...a sister-storm to the one that came through late this afternoon.
it was hot and humid today, but the rain that came through earlier--along with the rain that's on its way--brought with it a welcoming cooling. the breeze that's blowing now is gloriously mild.
i've been doing this more lately.
forcing myself to stop.
to take in.
to not only look, but to see.
to not only hear, but to listen.
to not only smell, but to inhale.
to not only touch, but to feel.
to not only taste, but to savor.
i've been taking little time-outs for myself.
making little time-outs for myself.
somewhere in the fine grey mist,
in the line between looking and seeing,
between hearing and listening,
between smelling and inhaling,
between touching and feeling,
between tasting and savoring...
somewhere in there, i'm finding the difference between surviving and living.