paying attention

My journal prompt from this morning is:  To experience creativity as part of daily living, it helps to slow down and pay attention ...

I'm amending that a bit ... it helps to pay attention even while increasing activity levels!
Josie gave me her old fitbit.  And of all the failed or guilt-induced attempts to increase my activity levels, this is not one.  I recognized with the tracking how low my actual activity levels have become... so last week I decided to walk to the mall instead of driving.  As I raked the carpet of leaves later that afternoon, my wrist started buzzing.  I had successfully passed 10,000 steps.
The fitbit was celebrating.
Seriously.  That should not have an impact on me.
but ...
yesterday after watching The Big Short, decided to head down Meewasin trail towards Waneskewin in the dusk of a cloudy evening.  The trail was quiet, except for the twilight activities of birds along the river and a few people of like mind on the trail.  A sparrow hawk screeched and swooped in the bare poplar branches above me, geese still flew overhead, following the bends of the river, and as the darkness settled into crevices and ravine an owl sounded his greeting... or warning.  A plane came in from the east for a landing, but I could find not a glimmer of light through the clouds.  Only the sound passing overhead.

This is my Father's world,
and to my listening ears
all nature sings, and round me rings
the music of the spheres

an old hymn echos in my mind this morning

journal prompt comes from "my creative contemplative journal" by april yamasaki and lois siemens

old leather

"These are my favorite boots ..." I confessed to the man in the shop that smelled like leather and worn things.  "I live in them."
He grinned as he turned them over in his hands.  "I can tell."
"Can you fix them?"
One year ago they fixed the heels.  Gave me another winter.  Last spring the leather on the side of the left foot gave out and ripped a good three inch slice along the sole.  I convinced myself that others couldn't see the rip and kept wearing them, grimacing when stepping through wet snow, knowing that my foot would be slightly damp for the rest of the day.

He said they could fix them.  They'd stitch a flap of nylon onto the leather (with black thread so that it wouldn't be noticeable), peel back the sole and secure it underneath.  They have a bit of a back log, so they wouldn't be ready till next Friday.  Would that be ok?  I was grinning.  

Such a small thing.  But it is fun to walk into a place that understands old things that you still love. They also threw a new grip onto the heels of another set of boots so that I had something on my feet when I walked out of the shop.

In a world where empires are clashing,
where there is so much struggle over land and power,
where children are at risk, and so many lives are without value,
there is something beautiful about a person who cares for the leather on my feet.

I feel as though someone washed my feet today.

Check out the Awl Shoppe
714 2nd Ave North in Saskatoon