to just be

Lately, I have been learning to just be. Did you know that it takes practice?
One of my good guy friends recently told me, “You are all up here,” while pointing to my head. He is right. The trouble with being so analytical, so inquisitive, so thought-full, is that it makes it really hard to just be.
And I really want to learn how to just be.
When I was in the fourth grade, my teacher used to read Encyclopedia Brown to the class. You had to pay attention to every little detail to find the one that unlocked the mystery. (Which were disclosed at the end of each little story.) I don’t remember what this one particular mystery was about, but I remember that I would just burst with the answers- the ridiculous kid hand stretched high. I knew she couldn’t pick me every time. But one time, nobody else had the answer. I answered. And Mrs. Woodman said, “How did you know that?!? You have a great brain.”
It was the first time someone told me that I was smart and I knew it.
Can I train my churning brain to quiet enough to just be?
I’ve been trying. I have been stretching myself. I’ve been forcing myself to exist inside of moments without analyzing them to pieces. I’ve been forcing myself to cling to the scripture that says something like each day has its own worries… I googled it:
Matthew 6:34 (New International Version)
34 Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

Yeah. Beautiful moments. I have had many lately. And I know myself well enough to know that I have to make myself exist in them, or I won’t fully experience them. I have heard people talk about how in their own beautiful moments time stands still. I can’t be absolutely sure, but I think I might have experienced that for the first time. It was just utterly beautiful. I just existed. I felt bliss and joy and happy and peaceful and I was speechless.
I didn’t think about what summer program I am going to enroll Brooklyn in, and what those deadlines are. Or that I need to get my tail light fixed. Or forwarding my mail. Or my best friend who was betrayed by her fiancé of seven years. Or my other best friend who was about to lose her days old niece whose body wasn’t made for this world.
I am grateful that I am learning to just be. It truly is a gift.