I’d never choose to be in the middle of anything
preferring a window for the scenery and a place to rest my head
or even the aisle, for making a quick escape with a restless child or a restless heart.
The middle is confining-
claustrophobia sets in.
I can’t easily go forward or back
and I feel stuck.
I’d much rather just have started
in love with a new yarn!
loving this story so much!
delighted with a new training plan!
or be nearly done
only three more rows to knit!
just a page and a half to go!
finish line in sight!
But life is teaching me that the middle has its advantages.
Hugs and snuggles from both sides,
a better view of the pictures in the storybook,
plenty of popcorn still in the bowl when it passes by,
sofa cushions perfectly broken in but with years of life left.
So I’m sitting in the middle more often these days,
cultivating an appreciation of the here and now
noticing what’s right in front of me
resisting the temptation to hurry ahead or linger, looking backward.
Sometimes the middle is messy, tear-stained, sticky, or covered in fingerprints,
but it’s where we are right now.
If we can’t go over it, under it, or around it,
if we have to go through it anyway,
we might as well try to appreciate it.