Vibrant Days…
Flourishing with Sensory Processing Sensitivity
My Dad loved to giggle and make me giggle. He also didn’t understand my yearning to disappear every few months. He’d grin and quip, “I just don’t get your little escapes to the nunneries. Are you going to tell us what you do there?” Little did he know my “nunnery weekends” were life savers for my highly sensitive mind and soul. Those weekends restored me. I’d scrutinize maps for a retreat center that allowed for a few hours of car time and cram my books, journals, and thermos into my little Toyota and off I’d go. I didn’t travel without my baseball cap since wearing one afforded my body a certain level of protection from the new stimuli parading in front of the miles. The drives were as rich as the stay. I was intentional with music playlists and kept a notebook propped open on the passenger seat to collect blossoming thoughts spilling from my brain. I picked places heralded with beautiful grounds. It was a bonus to stay at retreat centers that had religious overtones since I’d go on discovery walks and taste deep delight staring at cement figures and kneeling in chapels. It wasn’t beyond me to stroke the face of Jesus or Mary or sit on the grass imagining a cloud of witnesses around me. There was something strongly stabilizing about those weekends. Space to shed mountains of thought and moments to savor the fragments of my life that had moved me to wonder. It was a feast of recalling, receiving, and recognizing the divine within. I never left one of those weekends without feeling honored to be alive.(Excerpt from Beautifully Aware: A Year of Sensitive Living, Candy Crawford)
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What I’m rewatching:
Song I have on repeat:
What I’m pondering:
“You are being presented with two choices: evolve or repeat.”
-Unknown
