Good morning.
It's Wednesday, November eleventh.
Veterans Day.
For some of us...
today is very personal.
Maybe you served.
Maybe someone in your family did.
Or maybe this day usually slips That's by.
okay too.
Around the country, flags are going up.
On porches.
Outside the post office.
Some towns will have a small parade later.
A high school band.
Folding chairs along Main Street.
This morning...
we'll just take a quiet moment.
Sit comfortably.
Let your back be tall.
Let your hands rest.
We have six minutes.
Let's keep them simple.
Breathe in slowly through your nose.
And breathe out.
Just as slowly.
In...
calm and even.
Out...
nothing forced.
Let each breath be the same length.
Like footsteps on a long, quiet walk.
In...
And out.
If your thoughts wander...
to work, to the dishes in the sink...
just come back to the next breath.
Let your breathing find its own pace.
Listen to the wind for a moment.
Picture an open field.
Early morning.
The grass is pale with frost.
A flag moves slowly in the wind.
Nobody else is around.
Just you and the quiet.
Now think of the people who served.
Not a crowd.
Just people.
Someone's son or daughter.
Someone's neighbor down the street.
Maybe a face comes to mind.
A grandfather in an old photo.
An aunt in her dress blues.
A friend from high school.
The guy at church who fixes everything.
Let that face stay with you.
Just for a few breaths.
Now think of the families.
The ones who waited.
The spouses who ran the house alone.
The kids who counted days on a calendar.
They carried a lot too.
Mostly unnoticed.
You don't need to know their stories.
You don't need big words.
Just hold a simple thank you.
Right in the middle of your chest.
Thank you for your service.
Thank you to your families.
Let it sit there.
Warm and quiet.
And if you served yourself...
let some of that thanks be for you.
You're allowed to receive it too.
And if today feels heavy for you...
that's okay.
You can be here just as you are.
Breathing slowly.
No need to feel any certain way.
Two plain sentences, if they fit.
I am grateful for those who served.
I can carry that respect into my day.
Rest here in the quiet now.
No need to say anything else.
Just the wind moving over the field.
The frost slowly melting.
Some moments don't need words.
This is one of them.
Far off, a church bell rings once.
Then the field is quiet again.
The sun is climbing a little higher.
Warming the backs of your hands.
Let the quiet be your thank you.
Let the field fade slowly.
Come back to the room around you.
Roll your shoulders gently.
Feel your feet on the floor.
Take one slow breath in...
And let it go.
Here's one small thing for today.
At eleven this morning...
pause.
Wherever you are.
At your desk, or in the car.
Take a few quiet breaths.
And think that thank you again.
It's a small pause.
It still counts.
Open your eyes when you're ready.
Carry the quiet with you.