Hold Still, Sweet Sage

Hold still, sweet sage, I might need to look at you a little longer.

Hold still so I can marvel at your beauty.

Hold still while I walk around and inspect each morsel of your brilliance so that I can really soak in your message this time.

Hold still my wunderkind for you are rare and the world is expecting you but first stay here with me a little longer.

Hold still because I’m not quite ready for your wisdom but I know I need it.

Hold still as I can’t bear the thought of you growing and changing just yet…I like you just the way you are.

Hold still for you are all the hope I have in this moment.

Hold still, my sage, as I take all of you in and leave nothing to waste.

Hold still because right now your immobility is facilitating my growth.

Hold still so that your gems don’t fall between my fingers.

Hold still…and breathe with me…your breath breathes life into me.

I need them to hold still…I always need them to hold still. Because I’m not ready, or I’m still relishing it, or I’m in awe of it and can’t break my stare. When I read something chock full of detail, I always have to re-read it a few times to fully ingest the information. It’s a non-negotiable part of my process so I accept this as the reason for my slow reading. Soaking in the sage wisdom around me works the same, it begets the same process. I need to examine the full topography of it to be able to commit it to memory or better yet, to put it to practice. I’m okay with this and so is the rewind button on my phone when I compulsively press it so that I can hear whatever it is in that audio book that I can’t move past until it’s fully integrated in my emotional mainframe. It’s the agreement I have with the abundance that awaits me and it’s in this agreement that I dance with the stillness and the sage all at once.

My kids, the healers I call upon when I need a helping hand, a distant stranger’s voice on a podcast who has shone a light on some piece of wisdom I now can’t live without. These are the sages. They are everything that keeps me moving forward, one foot in front of the other, with my heart in tow. It’s the stuff that sometimes comes in drips and drabs and other times in a tidal wave when I’m least expecting it. They are plentiful and without true definition or predictable form. They prop me up and support me when I don’t have the energy to hold my own weight. These sages don’t even always know their utility to me but I’m indebted to them in perpetuity.

This record of my heart’s procurements is named after my process, my longing, and the loving world around me…when it sings to me in a song that is meant just for me. An act in which the singers are sage and their song is so required for my healing or growth that I silently beg for it to just hold still a little longer so I can take it all in. It’s the recollection and examination of a journey awaiting their brilliance and their message for me with a steadfast commitment to honor them in my path forward. And I’ll hold just as still while they deliver their variety of loving lessons on my soul.