Sometimes it feels like life is begging me to pause. Or is it the opposite? The thing about life is it is always moving–relentlessly carrying on with itself. The alarm goes and it’s up and at ‘em: Coffee, school runs, work, yoga, dinner time, bedtime, exhale, repeat. So little time for pausing. And yet there is this other side of thing–of life–absolutely begging me to stop.

The morning sun is pouring through the branches of the blue gum trees, across our lawn and through uor living room window, the birds playing in the bird bath while the girls eat sausage and corn and laugh at dusk. These little moments: quiet, calm. A reminder underneath the constant noise of to do lists and emails and text messages unread and needed answers and action items is this yearning. A low hum. A tug. Pulling me back towards the birdsong, the soft light, the pink mountains, my daughters’ laughter and sleeping bodies.

These things are constant and beautiful and so easy to miss.

What I really want to say is that I get so tired of living at such a high speed. I crave lazy days with nowhere to be. I long for hours outstretched before me–or even just a simple task.

This attempt to have it all is a trap. Something is always lost. Which appointments do we choose to keep? What is spared? And what do we spend years searching for? A nagging pain, a sense that something just isn’t right.

The Cape Dove is singing outside my window. A most familiar song. I love the deep tune she makes, so unique to this land. I want to cherish the moments. Pen to paper, alone in my room, the treetops, mountain and night sky all around me.

What I really want to say is: Breathe. Exhale. You can rest here.