Meditation Monday--The Walk

       There is an old iron bridge down the road from my childhood home. It's the Crooked Bridge, so named for obvious reasons. My brother and I spent countless hours tossing rocks off that bridge as children. We spent countless hours following where that creek, which is spanned by that crooked old bridge, lead. I remember walking with my Mom to that bridge, and now that bridge watches my Mom walk my children there to toss rocks and gleefully listen for the splash. Now they, like we, want nothing more than a handful of rocks and a rusty crooked bridge.

   Well, it's Monday again. It's time to take a second for yourself! So take a few deep breaths and find your inner calm--if necessary lock the kids in their closets. Enjoy!

My Mom and my boys at the Crooked Bridge.