top of page

You Are A Gift

Behind my house, three minutes‘ walk away, a river flows. Almost every afternoon I go to see the heron where he stands sentinel-still in the water, hunting supper.


Two days ago I was on my usual round down by the river — left over the wooden bridge, right along one field, left across others — and I was preoccupied with thoughts.


I had recently decided to step back from something that is very dear to my heart. I can’t yet speak about it. Too fresh and vulnerable. But the decision is born and with it comes some doubt.


Am I really doing the right thing? Shouldn’t I be trying a bit longer in the old way?

As guilt started creeping in, fearing that I’m robbing Robert of his freedom with my decision, my legs suddenly stopped.

The field had just been ploughed: the worms were exposed. A flock of a dozen storks and about twenty crows were gleefully feasting.


Above, the Autumn painted fervent colours in the sky: loving pink and candy blue.


And me, realising the beautiful gift I was being given. All of this was given to me without any doubt. Just nature and life unfurling into beauty. I only needed to open my eyes instead of getting swept away by the trance of the mind.


The earth beneath me wild and ready, creamy skies above. The colourful scene in front of me engulfed the guilt and doubt.