A busy morning. Up early, (well, for me), loads of emails, two long calls, a quick lunch and a client coming this afternoon. Of course I’ve prepared for her. I’ve looked at the notes from last time and re-connected with what’s going on in her life. I’m ready. I glance at the time, a whole 25 minutes before she arrives.
My brow furrows, my mouth sets in a thin, hard line. Avocado and tomato salad whirl around my stomach – I ignore it.
Now what can I do in 25 minutes?
What can I not do in 25 minutes? Wow, that’s powerful, think of all the things I can’t do in 25 minutes.
And then the next thought – I know, I could write my blog about what it’s like to stop for a moment.
Or … I could not write my blog.
I could actually, literally stop.
Stop and connect to this unique human being who’s coming all this way to my house for her session. A few moments of stillness in all this activity in order to become present to her.
I rise from the computer and climb the short flight of stairs to the bedroom. It’s calm there as I always intended. No TV, no pictures on the walls, no stuff (or not too much). Cool, white and soothing with a view down the wide street which reminds me of a French avenue with tall trees on either side.
I cross the bedroom and sit at the little antique dressing table, apply a bit more mascara, trace of lipstick, straighten my hair. A spritz of perfume – fragrant lime, basil and mandarin.
I think about my client. Imagine her face, how she might feel as she comes to the session, her journey in the taxi.
I notice various clothes airing quietly on the cupboard door.
Just for a few seconds I close my eyes. As adrenalin seeps out of my body I feel fatigued like I’ve just run a race. I breathe deeply. A sense of relaxation and peace infuses my body.
Now I’m ready.
I go downstairs, assemble water jug and glasses, tea tray, notepad and pen, check the room is comfortable and tidy. These small, simple tasks calm me further.
A few minutes later when she arrives, she tells me I look really well. She says she was in a rush today and hadn’t noticed the time because she was so busy. How she only had a little space to get ready but she managed to wash her hair in preparation for our session – she feels better she says, with clean hair.
I tell her about my preparations too.
And we laugh, ‘Isn’t that amazing?’
The simple pleasure we both experienced of taking the opportunity to pause during a busy day and the simple, yet profound pleasure of noticing the synchronicity and how the universe can be funny like that.