Content

Yoga. Nature. Friends.

Any one of those things alone is food for my soul. Combine them all in one Saturday morning…how could it get any better? Well, I guess you could add food for my belly — breakfast together at The Trough, a local restaurant I hadn’t yet tried (adventure!). I know, it sounds like a place where pigs would line up to dive into their daily rations. It’s actually a pretty cool spot that serves a fantastic breakfast.

As our yoga session began, the instructor told us to think about our intention. What word, thought, feeling did we want to bring into our practice and our day? A few possibilities floated through my consciousness. Sitting there on the green grass in the cool morning air, surrounded by trees, the blue sky above, perched on my mat between two of my adventure sisters, the word that settled into place like scrabble letters on a board — content (accent on the last syllable).

Everything was right there. Nothing lacking. Complete peace.

There is a scripture that says, “I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength (Philippians 4:12-13).”

How are those two connected — contentment and the strength of Christ? Maybe it’s about trust. Maybe the more I trust that strength will be given to me at the time I need it, the more I can settle into this moment without fear or restlessness. I’m just processing, not saying this should be put on a plaque or something.

I want to cultivate that sense of contentment. But the achiever in me says, “NO, then you won’t get anything done!” Contentment doesn’t mean having no goals or never looking for ways to improve things. It doesn’t mean collapsing with a big sigh of resignation and saying, “Oh, well…”

I don’t pretend to know the balance between contentment and living a life of forward movement and purpose, both of which are good things. But I’m willing to learn. I get it in bits and pieces, like this morning’s perfect (except for the bunny poop on my mat and the intermittent smell of dog pee) yoga session at the park.

Thank you, God, thank you, for access to good things that feed my soul. And good food that feeds my belly. Help me learn to be content, whatever that looks like in the context of real life. To trust that in all things, you will give me the strength I need when I need it. Then I can settle into the moment without fear or restlessness. Maybe that is the key to learning contentment. I’m sure willing to find out. Amen.