Tara Pohlkotte a friend, poet, and noticer of all things beautiful joins us to talk about rest for our journey. She is a writer who helps me see better and reading her words always feels like coming home. You can visit her at Pohlkotte Press. Take a few moments today to accept her invitation to sit, to see, to rest.
We boarded a plane.
8 hours later we landed in Paris.
When we got to our room, responsibility and worry slipped with our bags from our shoulders as we unpacked more than just our luggage that first night.
Over the course of the next few days we took in the sights, but more than that, we allowed ourselves to remain present instead of two steps ahead. Planning only a few hours at a time, when a majority of our life is spent mapping out years, of charting our course.
We are driven, my husband and I. We believe in the power of hard work, of dedication, and direction. And now – we are learning the art of rest.
Of watching sun thrown shadows move across statues.
Of tossing a thousand wishes into a fountain.
Of learning lessons from the deep lines etched into the street vendors face.
Of seeing magic in the young lovers crossing us on the street.
As we move into our final year of our twenties, we are starting to see more clearly that the journey we are on is long. A road with many turns, patches through dark so black that your soul begins to lose faith in the sun. We know our legs will burn from the hills we must climb and the weariness of seasons of unrest. We have seen how our hearts can strain and pull as the years come, seemingly more quickly now. We know the determination it will take to keep us together, how we must fight to remain side by side.
So for this day, we cocoon ourselves. We let the world go on around us. We take our cues from the trees- rooted yet active participants, nodding to people as they passed, rustling with whispers when thoughts were shared. Aware and alive while our eyes roamed the wide streets. We remained with our backs pressed into a park bench, letting the gentle wind sweep hair across my face. Holding hands and holding still, allowing our souls to seep until brimming with the beauty around us.
Content, in this moment on our journey, to rest.
Writer at Pohlkotte Press
Mother of two sweet souls.
Lover of simple beauty.
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