The walk from my car to my unit at the hospital I where I just started working is a quarter mile long.

The sun is up when I arrive, so I always walk in to work along the sidewalk, saying my morning prayers, preparing for the day. The frequent employee buses pass me by, and I smile as I get my steps in.

My favorite part of the walk is the entrance to the hospital space.

I take a deep breathe as a see the pergola – I exhale as I see the two live oaks on rather side just beyond, with limbs stretching toward each other, yet not touching.

The oaks are festooned with garlands of fern in every dark crevice, and hanging between the trees is a large, metal wind chime.

This is the space where I feel myself surrendering to the call of caring for others.

Most days, a breeze is twisting the tubes of the chime, and I breathe in its sonorous, deep tones.

On days with no breeze, I’ll reach up and brush the circle that hangs lowest, and elicit at least one deep tone to hum into my soul.

I take a deep breathe as I pass under the branches, and lift my face to head into the hospital.

Grounded, centered, and at peace.