Blessing for One who is Exhausted is particularly apt for me at this point. I slumped in the chair of my spiritual director's office last week and admitted I was bone weary. Work has sprouted one too many unanticipated projects this semester, and I feel like I rush through my days, head down, focussed on what is in front of me and nothing more, then fall into bed and do it again. O'Donohue nudges me into the Examen I wonder if I'm too tired to make: “Take refuge in your senses, open up/To all the small miracles you rushed through.”
I sometimes wonder if I close off the possibility of tiny miracles, unable or unwilling to pick up on the clues that surround me daily (except perhaps when they are on the sidewalk in front of me).
I'm reflecting about rushing through miracles and what it might take to still myself long enough to recognize them at This Ignatian Life, and so today trying to practice being aware sometime before my midnight Examen. Every time I looked up from my desk I peeked out the window and admired the snow, surprised and delighted again and again by the gorgeous flakes.