I woke up early this morning.

Usually waking before the sun is up, is out of necessity to get my high schoolers off and running. But this morning school was canceled due to the cold. There’s something magical about suddenly having time you didn’t anticipate.

I knew it was frigid outside and that is the exact thing that drew me out there. The horses would be ready to eat after a long cold night. Being cold is at the very top of my list of things I hate. Turns out I love my horses more than I hate cold though.

I bundled into my ever-ready snow pants and winter coat. Outside the light of the sun had just begun to reach for the sky.

I entered an unexpected wonderland.

The mountains were frosted in white, and a soft pink filled parts of the sky. I took food down to the horses who were dusted with frost and covered in a snow blanket that had helped keep them warm through the night.

I reveled in the world around me that I was all alone in, filled with God’s divine touch.

There’s something pure and unadulterated about the morning and even more so when it is a world that has been touched by the cold hand of winter.

I walked through the snow, up the hill back to the house. As I did, I was filled with awe. Looking to the west heaven peaked into the world. The frosted mountain awoke from the night while light clouds floated in the sky above it, colored pink from the rising sun to the east. Behind the soft clouds, a half moon peaked out, welcoming the morning.

It lasted just a moment before the sky began to change, filling with light.

The sun continued its journey above the horizon, while the bright sun peaked over a ridge, beginning to fill the sky. That breathtaking moment before all the world became light, lasted only briefly. And I was there to see it–a moment in time unlike any before or any that would come after. Instead of rushing to the next thing, I lived for just a moment.

Today, I said “yes” to reveling in the beauty God unfolds each day. But most days I say “no”. Instead, I say yes to rushing around, sleeping in, and maximizing the time while the children are still asleep. At least I tell myself I’m maximizing the time. I am making my choice. And I wonder when maximizing my time became a priority for me.

I wondered this as I walked up the hill. Turns out it has been a long time.

Yesterday, I was talking to my kids as we drove to the bus stop about grades. I mentioned that I had never cared about learning in school. All I was ever focused on was my grades. It’s not accurate to say I never cared about learning in school, because there were occasions when the process would pull me in, but I spent at least eight years of my high school and college life with my primary focus on grades. That’s a lot of time to think about a singular letter that I came to believe said something about who I was as a person.

Even more astonishingly, that is a LOT of missed learning opportunities.

My focus was so diluted by what was important. Of course, grades were what the world around me told me was important. But, I still had a choice.

This, it turns out, has been a pattern in my life. The achievement has always equaled worth to me. I’m not alone, it’s a pretty common attitude in our culture. Just look at the most popular podcasts and self-help books. There’s a lot of focus on achievement.

Since the time I left the magical world of childhood, some end goal has always hijacked the present moment. Each time I was looking for more than what I had right now, right in front of me.

You have to be careful with regret.

It doesn’t do much good to regret your life. It is one more ploy to take you out of the present moment and back to a world, you cannot change. But the past is something you must learn from. Looking back on my past, there are certainly lessons for me to use today.

Many good things have come out of my rush to hurry up and get somewhere. I can’t deny that, and maybe that’s why it is so tricky. But, the reality is, I will never know what life would have been like if I had said “yes” to slowing down and being present. I will never know what I missed.

Instead of worrying about my kids growing up and meeting the next milestone, how would my life be different if I had spent more time in the present moment? Just enjoying the journey?

I’m really not a good journey enjoyer.

And, I wonder when I was pulled out of that mindset because everyone is born with a gift to bask in the present moment. Just watch a young child move through life. They are fully present in each and every moment.

That is how we come into this world. Delighted in the most minute details of life and then one day it changes.

One day all those little details are annoying impediments to reaching the next mark, participating in the next activity, and achieving the next goal. “Hurry up, get your shoes on, we have to go.”

How many times have I told my children–“Get out of the moment you are in.” “You are too slow, too preoccupied.” “Focus, not where you are, but ahead of you on the elusive next that you will never truly reach.”

I don’t know where I lost the slow and simple delight of life, but I can sure identify the force behind my children losing it.

Me! It is squarely on my shoulders and me yielding to culture and the society around me instead of to my soul. Rush, rush, rush. Onto the next thing.

In our day and age, we have a lot working against the enjoyment of simple things. We have access to the world. Lights we can leave on all night. Entertainment at a fingertips touch. Awards, degrees, championships for everything. So many details of everyone else’s achievements. We seem to have everything, except peace and contentment.

Did you know that almost a quarter of the population has an anxiety disorder? That is not just excessive amounts of anxiety, that is how many people have been diagnosed and are seeking treatment. What is that number if it is just those who are letting anxiety rob them of their lives? Hand up, right here. I’d guess it’s in the 9oth percentile.

7% of children, starting at age 3 are developing anxiety disorders (NAMI, 2017).

That hurts my heart. That was almost five years ago. I’d wager the statistics are even higher now.

Rush has changed our children’s world.

Kids are no longer getting together in the evenings to go play ball in the empty field. They now go to well-manicured fields to systematically perfect their batting.

Little girls no longer dance around the family room but instead are sent to a studio to perfect their plié.

We no longer sing around the piano at Christmas, but instead, go to well-polished performances.

I know all these things because I have done each of these things with either myself or my kids. And, I can’t help but wonder what I have traded it for.

But alas, it doesn’t matter. What does matter is how I move forward and what I say “Yes!” to today.

For so, so many years I’ve said yes to rush.

Hurry up. Get it done. Move on to the next goal, sport, achievement, degree, service project, job, house, expectation, social media scroll, or thing. Oh, so many things.

And for most of the time, I’ve had this anxiety in my soul telling me that while these things were all good, perhaps they are not really what I need.

That’s reminiscent of scripture, right?

“But Martha was cumbered about much serving, and came to him, and said, Lord, dost thou not care that my sister hath left me to serve alone? bid her therefore that she help me.  And Jesus answered and said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things: But one thing is needful: and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her.”

I actually really like the NIV translation on this one. “Martha, Martha… you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”

You know, I always assumed I knew what that one thing was.

Following Jesus, right? Jesus healed and served and toiled to serve his God. Isn’t that it?

Apparently not, because Martha was the one toiling in this scripture and she didn’t have that one thing.

I think I’m learning what that one thing is.

Stillness. Present moment living. Stopping and saying “yes” to what is really important and “no” to all those things that seem important. In this case, it was likely cleaning and serving that was not important–note to self.

Jesus says that one thing cannot be taken from us. But we can and do readily hand it over to anything vying for our time and attention. Anything to mitigate the anxiety of, “I should, I should, I should.”

Have you ever felt the pull–“I should be still.” “I should say no.” Those are things you should do all day long and they usually sit directly at the bottom of our priority list.

We recently moved to the mountains and it’s been slightly traumatic and eye-opening, to say the least. I have days where I wonder if I’m cut out to live in the rugged mountain world while keeping a foot in the modern world.

Despite the challenges and hardships, I know it was a soul move.

My soul longed for the mountains and thankfully my husband’s did too.

I would go to the mountains and the world around me would change. My heart would change. My soul would be filled.

It has by no means been easy, most really good things aren’t, but being in the mountains, and getting to walk out my door into pure creation has healed me and strengthened me. It has grounded me.

Not everyone can pick up and move to the middle of nowhere.

You can find your mountains wherever you are.

The stillness of God’s creations, even with all of man’s brick and mortar, still is there. The sky is always there and if you stop and look at it, you see miracles. You feel heaven.

Birds, are always there if you just stop for a moment and listen to them.

Grass and trees, have a way of finding you if you let them. Before I lived in the mountains, I found my peace in a dusty, prairie trail, often scattered with trash. The trash wasn’t so great, but God’s creations still reigned even as the modern world fought to stifle it.

This isn’t a post about answers, because I don’t really have any.

Some days are slow and peaceful and other days are a constant fight to live in the modern world while savoring the present moment. On other days I just surrender to insanity and let the world push me around telling me what to do and where to go and how to do it.

This is about discovering. It’s about uncovering the life you are meant to live, under all the laundry, responsibilities, jobs, perceived obligations, and things (yep, I already mentioned things, they are suffocating!)

What I have discovered during my attempt to not rush so much this month, is that there is another world that is being snuffed out by everything I think I should be doing, being and achieving. This other life is where you find yourself instead of being pushed back and forth between forces that are loud and in your face. It is about being you instead of being used.

It is a life of saying no. No to activities, requests, responsibilities, or even achievements and accolades. Oh yeah, and technology. (Read about all that fun, here.)

It’s not always saying no.

It’s a life of intention. Of deliberately choosing where the yes and no’s of your life fall and letting them land where your spirit is guiding you to leave them.

It is a life of intentional mornings, quiet evenings, nature, God, and you. (Not wanting to stop and be with yourself is a whole other topic for another day.) It’s a life in which you can love yourself and enjoy being in solitude as well as with those closest to you in this life. It is a life lived in the present moment rather than an ever-elusive future or a devastating past.

Because for everything you say “yes” to, you are saying “no” to a plethora of other things.

Make sure those yeses are landing in the places you want to be. As easy as it is to say otherwise, and blame outside forces, the truth is, you are in control of your life. You are the one choosing where your time and energy and soul are spent.

Don’t get me wrong, no’s can be really hard. It’s hard to tell your kids no, social media no, your boss no, and that new episode no. It’s hard to say no to requests at church and school and everywhere you turn. I’m not an expert. I have regular internal struggles with it.

But if you don’t say no, you are going to be saying yes to a life that isn’t the one your inner being is begging you to live. The more you slow down, the more you will start to feel that and begin to understand where your future paths should lead.