on being still. . .

Be still.

A reminder to sit, to listen, to not run in nine directions, simultaneously, with passion. A reminder to take a deep breath every once in awhile. Fifteen years later, stillness has not been my strong suit (and that may be the understatement of the year).  I am like a two year old in a new nursery surrounded by a million things to do and see and determined not to miss a thing.

My first two months in Kenya are officially our time to learn Swahili, which we are doing at a feverish pace. Unofficially, it’s a time to get our footing, build new friendships, and make sure our Focus is solid before I enter the potentially all-consuming life that is being a pediatrician at this busy, busy hospital.

Day by day, I become more and more thankful for this time as I begin to sink deep roots in a place I have been for only a fraction of my life. However,  I also ponder deeply, practice my spectacular ability to prepare for as-yet-to-come-to-pass worst case scenarios, and wonder about the new normal.

As a wise friend put it, this 8 weeks is like my maternity leave – complete with the life changing upheaval that a first child brings, but strangely enchanting as I take midnight moments to really see the newness and beauty that has upended our lives.

Perhaps this move to Africa, the stripping to the bare essentials of our life, and the looming impossibility to stands before me will finally stun me into silence.  And I will sit with wonder, and finally, be still.