Not quite refined
This scarlet macaw stole my button, but I didn’t know it until I saw this photo.
Roatan, Honduras, March 2011
“She was not quite what you would call refined. She was not quite what you would call unrefined. She was the kind of person that keeps a parrot.” — Mark Twain
There is nothing profound, instructive or inspirational about this quote. It made me laugh, so I wanted to share it. Twain’s whimsical description somehow hits just the right note, and I fancy it describes a woman who was rather like me in many ways. I’ve never had a parrot, but I wouldn’t rule it out if I live long enough to be even more eccentric than I am now.
I hope this will bring you one of many smiles you enjoy today. Comic relief is a blessing, and we all need more of it. Feel free to post links to funny photos, quotes or videos in the comments below. I didn’t get too many jokesters on April Fool’s Day, but it’s not too late! Laughter really is the best medicine.
SPECIAL NOTE to Sheila: I schedule these posts in advance and believe it or not, I had already scheduled this one before our humorous exchange about your sun conure! I assure you I was NOT thinking of you when I read Twain’s funny quote!
Capture a moment
One of hundreds of photos being taken all around the Tidal Basin. April 2013
“What I like about photographs is that they capture a moment that’s gone forever, impossible to reproduce.” ― Karl Lagerfeld
A couple of weeks ago I went into D.C. for the afternoon to see the cherry blossom trees at their peak. Not only was it indescribably beautiful, but I had perhaps the greatest opportunity ever to unobtrusively take photos of other people taking photos, which is one of my favorite subjects to catch on camera.
During my years as a photographer for my college newspaper, I learned that cameras add significantly to an already festive atmosphere. When people are happy and friendly, add a camera and you have an instant party. That’s how it felt that afternoon around the Tidal Basin. It was like being at a big party where no one knew everyone else, but none were strangers.
Although camera phones are everywhere now, it’s still easier to get good photos (particularly from a distance) with one of the many lightweight, full-featured digital cameras available for very reasonable prices. Try taking one along to your next happy gathering, and see how much fun you have capturing precious moments that will happen only once in a lifetime.
Fishermen know
In September 2007 we visited the historic fishing village of Peggy’s Cove, Nova Scotia
“The fishermen know that the sea is dangerous and the storm terrible, but they have never found these dangers sufficient reason for remaining ashore.”
— Vincent Van Gogh
Fishermen are among many who labor at occupations fraught with potential hazards, but our lives and well being depend on workers who understand that benefits often outweigh risks. Where would we be without their courage?
Caution is helpful unless it causes us to be paralyzed with fear. Fishermen and other professionals use fear as motivation for preparation, wisely learning how to read the weather, evaluate the limitations of their craft, and recognize when they need to remain ashore temporarily to minimize the risks. Then they press on, and we are all better for their refusal to be intimidated.
It takes a different type of courage to respond thoughtfully to others, whether in person or online. To make one’s thoughts available to an unknown public, even in the relative anonymity of a blog site, can be intimidating. I want to thank those who blog or respond with thoughtful and positive comments here and elsewhere on the web. Those of us who put our thoughts online do so with full knowledge that we may encounter argument, disdain or disapproval. Readers who respond in conversation are extending a type of generosity that not everyone is willing to risk. Those of you who do take the time to read and post comments are deeply appreciated, by me and my fellow bloggers, and also by many others who read your comments.
Almost all of us face fearful circumstances from time to time. I hope we will use that fear as a motivator to learn and prepare, not an excuse to retreat or withdraw. There are risks in connecting with others, but these are insufficient reason to remain isolated. May we continue to draw strength and courage from each other as we share our diverse but strangely unifying struggles.
A species of talent
Matt and his Daddy, happy together from the very beginning, 1986.
“…happiness is a species of talent, for which some people have superior aptitudes.”
— George Will
Our younger son Matt was born with a rare genetic disorder that would not be diagnosed for many years, at which time there were only about six known cases in the world. At birth, what we knew immediately was that he had a raggedy mess of a heart; four separate defects that would require repeated open heart surgeries for as long as he lives. The need for surgery in infancy was balanced against the risk of undergoing such an extensive procedure on so tiny a baby, and the cardiologists waited as long as they could. He had his first open heart surgery just before his first birthday.
Because of the limits on physical stamina his heart condition created (and also because of the developmental disability that goes along with the genetic disorder we did not yet know about) he was late with many of his milestones in infancy, but a few of them he reached quite early. In particular, he began smiling what all witnesses agreed were genuine smiles at just one week old, and has not stopped smiling since.
Those smiles decorated countless photos taken in childhood, and continue into photos taken in adulthood. The severe limitations of his physical heart were apparently compensated by heart of a different kind. I can say honestly that I have never known a person more forgiving, more ready to love people and life itself, more gifted at the rare talent of happiness. May we all value and imitate those who have this gift.
Solace in the seedlings
My tiny flower garden in the wooded half of our lot was a cool, quiet retreat, May 2008
“…all of this time in the garden is stolen, snatched away from other priorities that clamor for attention before or after hours: family, meals, reading, household chores. This clamor is barely audible to the commuter gardener, though, for he has found his solace in the seedlings and flowers and fruits that come from the bits and pieces of time and trouble he spends on his garden.” – Conrad Aiken
Considering that Aiken was born in 1889, it’s interesting to read his comments about the conflicting schedule demands facing the commuter. Apparently our frustration at having too little time is nothing new. In most respects my life bears little resemblance to Aiken’s, but I certainly connect with his observation that time spent in the garden must be seized from other claimants. My excuse is that it’s more beneficial to my spirit than it is to the plants I tend. Whether you have a large garden, a small flower bed or just a potted plant or two, I highly recommend the therapeutic benefit of botanical pursuits. As Aiken attests, even small bits of time spent in the garden are wisely invested.
Related Posts
Slowly — but painlessly!
This beautiful stairway in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico (March 2004) reminds me to enjoy the climb!
“By taking steps so tiny that they seem trivial or even laughable, you’ll sail calmly past obstacles that have defeated you before. Slowly – but painlessly! – you’ll cultivate an appetite for continued success and lay down a permanent new route to change.”— Robert Maurer
Often despair is the result of feeling totally overwhelmed by misfortune. Or, less dramatically, procrastination is the result of feeling overwhelmed by a task. I’ve found it helps tremendously to apply a process that Matt’s occupational therapists used to call “task analysis.” Basically, it means breaking a task or situation down into very small, almost unnoticeable steps and pinpointing where difficulties arise, working on them one by one.
When I was in graduate school full time, I had to juggle the meal preparation, housework and other demands of caring for two kids in grade school, along with all the medical and educational needs of our younger son. Every semester when I would attend the first day of classes and get the syllabus for each class, I would panic and think there was absolutely no way on earth I would get through this semester. Then I would come home, print out four month-at-a-glance calendar pages on my dot matrix printer (that’s how long ago this was) and take every assignment in each syllabus and break it down into tiny steps, penciling them in on each month’s page. I would then plan my menus for the next four months according to what I had to do that day for school, and then fit in Matt’s special education meetings, cardiology appointments and so on.
There was something reassuring about proving to myself on paper that it really wasn’t impossible to get through the coming weeks. In fact, it was fairly painless and I ended up enjoying school as much as I’ve ever enjoyed anything that demanding. I learned to anticipate the feeling of panic at the beginning of each semester and accept that some anxiety was an inevitable part of the process. Then I’d just print out my blank calendar pages and break it all down. Having the steps clearly plotted, I was able to relax and enjoy life in Hawaii despite all the challenges.
When we are not so overwhelmed, we can see the beauty of the staircase and even enjoy the climb. If you are feeling overwhelmed by life, I hope you will be able to take a deep breath and design your own steps, going at your own pace and enjoying as much as you can along the way.
The power to speak
This cub was as curious about us as we were about him! Near Skagway, Alaska, June 2000
“An animal’s eyes have the power to speak a great language.” — Martin Buber
On a highway near Skagway, Alaska, we noticed a few people stopped alongside the road and quickly found what attracted their attention: a baby bear had ambled right up to the guard rail, looking at everyone with friendly curiosity. It was raining lightly as I took several photos of one of the cutest animals I had ever seen in the wild (and only later realized that this might have been fatal if an angry Mama Bear had come after me).
Anyone whose household includes an animal (or two or three or more) is well aware of their ability to communicate without words. Those who aren’t familiar with animals may think us overly sentimental, or accuse us of anthropomorphism when we insist our animals talk to us with their eyes and mannerisms. But to ascribe the ability to communicate to an animal is not to equate it with a human. Indeed, some animals may achieve a higher rate of successful communication with each other than their human counterparts achieve among their peers!
In any case, I fail to understand how anyone could look into an animal’s eyes and not see a form of intelligence behind them. From the sophisticated, almost disdainful glances of gorillas or lions at the zoo, to the watchful awareness of a rabbit or deer deciding exactly how close it will let me come before it flees, animals say many things with their eyes. Whether or not we interpret them correctly is a different matter.
I wish for you many delightful (and safe) encounters with animals of all kinds!
Libraries will get you through
The public library of Rockland, Maine is one of many beautiful libraries that welcome you!
“Libraries will get you through times of no money better than money will get you through times of no libraries.” — Anne Herbert
Whenever I am feeling grouchy about paying taxes, I try to think of the wonderful public libraries that have given so much to our family over the years. I can think of few places that have enriched our lives on so many levels, at no direct cost. Even before I became a librarian I was bewildered that many people never walk into a library. It’s unquestionably one of the best bargains around.
The public libraries of today have much, much more to offer than traditional books. You can now look up all sorts of full text publications, 24/7 from the convenience of home, via research databases that formerly cost hundreds of dollars to access (and unlike a Google search, these databases are pre-screened or peer-reviewed for accuracy and quality). You can download in seconds the newest audio or e-book bestsellers to play on your iPod or MP3 player. You can even download free hit music, yours to keep permanently, via an online service called Freegal that is now available in many public libraries. You can check out DVDs of countless movies. If the titles of your choice in books, music or movies are not available, you can get on a waitlist for them. For all these services and more, we’ve never paid a cent outside of the taxes we pay whether or not we use the library.
Even if you’re not into books, music or movies, there are other great possibilities at public libraries. Some are now lending all sorts of non-literary things: hand tools, cake pans, knitting needles, telescopes, fishing poles, home energy meters and other items that can be more practical to share than to own. There are even libraries that host seed exchanges, where gardeners can “recycle” seeds from their gardens. You can apply for passports, get documents notarized, hear free concerts and take free classes. And some larger libraries now have machines that will download from your flash drive a manuscript you’ve written, and turn it into a book! (This particular service, of course, is not free.)
If you are a library fan, thanks for visiting my blog – you are among many like-minded people here! If you are not taking advantage of the immense wealth offered in your local library, I hope you will check it out (no pun intended) and find out how much fun you can have for free.
Related posts:
Flowers have an expression
Bromileads (we think) bloom just inside the Sackler Gallery, Smithsonian Institution,
Washington DC March 2013
“Flowers have an expression of countenance as much as men or animals. Some seem to smile; some have a sad expression; some are pensive and diffident; others again are plain, honest and upright…” — Henry Ward Beecher
On a recent visit to the Sackler Gallery at the Smithsonian Institution, I was delighted to see the beautiful flowers pictured above, growing just inside the front window. Unlike most flowers at the Smithsonian, these did not have any labels that named or described them. I asked around, and staff were not certain either, but the general consensus was that they were some form of bromilead.
When I came home I did a bit of research and found out some fascinating facts about this particular family of flowers. They are incredibly diverse in appearance, ranging from the pineapple (surprised? I was) to Spanish moss (which is neither Spanish, nor moss) to brilliant varieties similar to the one pictured above. I thought of Beecher’s quote when I saw these flowers, which certainly have an expression unlike most others. How would you describe them? Words that come to mind for me are cheerful, serene, elegant, and vivacious. I hope they will brighten your day as they did mine!
Just enough intelligence
Niagara Falls, the USA and Canada, May 2009
“As a human being, one has been endowed with just enough intelligence to be able to see clearly how utterly inadequate that intelligence is when confronted with what exists.” — Albert Einstein
Niagara Falls is one of those places that can’t be adequately described; one has to be there, hear the roar and feel the mist to fully appreciate the magnitude and power. This site is among several places that were much more impressive in real life than I had expected them to be. I first saw the falls in 1976, when my college roommate was competing in the Miss USA pageant held nearby. As exciting as it was to be there for the live telecast, the most wonderful part of my trip was seeing the spectacular show nature stages at the falls 24 hours every day regardless of how many people are in attendance.
What’s even more amazing is how many places all over the world are equally remarkable. It took me awhile (and some advice from Jeff) to decide which photo would go with this quote, since I’ve snapped so many photos of wondrous sights that took my breath away. Einstein said it well; even the most intelligent among us is duly humble in the face of creation. I wish for you many chances to thrill to such abundant natural magnificence, and vivid memories to treasure with awe and gratitude.
Like life
“Pink snow” surrounds our cherry blossom trees, covering the lawn and sidewalks, 2012
“Do not watch the petals fall from the rose with sadness; know that, like life, things sometimes must fade before they can bloom again.” — Author unknown
The cherry blossom trees of Washington DC are justly famous, but the ones I most enjoy are right outside the front door of our townhouse in Alexandria. Until we lived with them, I never realized how briefly the cherry blossoms are in bloom. We have less than a week to enjoy their beauty at peak bloom time when most of the petals are open. If it rains, the petals fall even more quickly, leaving the ground covered in what I call “pink snow.” The feather-light petals can be annoying as they stick to cars and windows, and get tracked into the house in clumps on the soles of our shoes. But they are also beautiful, carpeting the ground with a fluffy loveliness unlike any other.
Wednesday as I was admiring the amazing blossoms in DC, the petals were just beginning to fall. The past two days they’ve been fluttering through the air almost continually. I’ve been sweeping, vacuuming and cleaning up pink flower petals off my floors all day.
Though I feel a bit sad when the blooming period is over, I also rejoice in the unique reminder left behind by the petals. I take comfort in knowing the trees will bloom again next year. Meanwhile there will be other flowers to enjoy. It seems an apt metaphor for life; the glorious happy times that are over before we know it, leaving lovely memories that bless us even as they touch our hearts with sorrow. We wipe away the tears and look to the future, trusting that new blooms will spring up.
Born on his father’s birthday
Eric and Dad at the old Atlanta airport, sometime in the mid 1970’s
“He was born on his father’s birthday, a gift that keeps on giving.”
— George F. Will, writing about his eldest son Jon
This month I pay tribute to the two men who, other than my husband, have had the most lasting influence in my life. My father was born in April, and his first child was a son born on his birthday. As George Will can attest, it’s a gift that keeps on giving.
Daddy had the good fortune to grow up right along with the aviation industry, first seeing a biplane during his childhood in the early 1930’s, learning to fly in the 1940’s, going on to train Air Force pilots to fly during the 1950’s, and eventually retiring as captain on a wide body airliner after over 30 years with Eastern Air Lines. I really can’t think of any other job I’d rather my father have had; there were no down sides to it that I could ever see (other than occasionally having him gone on holidays). I grew up listening to dinner table conversations about places he had been that day; New York or the Caribbean or the west coast. More than once, we dropped everything (including school) to take off for a quick getaway. The world always seemed small enough to be a friendly place and accessible enough to become familiar.
Although my sister, brothers and I are close in age, my older brother often took on himself the role of a second father to his younger sisters and brother. While this could be exasperating at times, it was also comforting. No one was surprised when he followed his father’s contrails into the sky, first as an F-100 pilot, then as an airline pilot for Northwest. As my father did, he gave me the opportunity to travel on passes (including the trip I wrote about here) but more importantly, brought back stories of his experiences that widened my world considerably.
I worked for USAir (formerly Piedmont) for five years, although I never served on a flight crew. The airport gates and tarmac were familiar to me, the airline lingo a vocabulary I learned from birth. I have watched the changes in the industry with interest and a bit of nostalgic sadness when I remember how special it used to be to fly. It’s now almost universal to talk of airlines, and flying itself, with contempt; to complain about the many irritations that have been an inevitable result of deregulation and the harsh reality of global terrorism.
As for me, I will never completely lose the sense of wonder I had as a very young child, looking down on fluffy white clouds lit up with brilliant sunlight, thinking to myself, “my Daddy works up here.” The next time you are on a flight, I hope you will be able to close your mind to the many irritations (crowded seats, full overhead bins, repetitious announcements and runway delays) and realize for a minute that you are able to do, often and without much thought, something your great-great-grandparents could scarcely have imagined. For me, flight is a gift, one that keeps on giving.
Somewhere it hides
Drew photographs the eerily beautiful Carcross Desert, Yukon, Canada, June 2000
“What makes the desert beautiful is that somewhere it hides a well.”
— Antoine de Saint-Exupery
Tucked away in the chilly magnificence of the Yukon, there lies a true curiosity of nature: the Carcross Desert. At about one square mile, it is called the “world’s smallest desert” although it is actually a series of sand dunes left behind by a glacial lake. In this case, it could be said that it was the well that hid the desert!
It’s quite an experience to traverse the Alaska border where snow lies all around, into the Yukon where there is more of the same, only to come upon an expanse of warm, dry sand with scarcely any vegetation. It’s one of nature’s little surprises; a reminder that even the most foreboding of landscapes conceal delightful secrets. When you find yourself in the midst of a boring, unpleasent or difficult circumstance, remember that “somewhere it hides a well.”
The familiar exotic
Exotic yet familiar: Jeff and Matt at the gate to Chinatown, San Francisco, 2003
“Make the familiar exotic; the exotic familiar.” — Bharati Mukherjee
I’m pretty good at making the exotic familiar, or at least trying. When Jeff and I travel, we tend to avoid the tourist routes and go to places where the locals are: public transportation, grocery stores, municipal libraries. The more intriguing a city is, the more I am determined to walk through it enough times to get a feel for the neighborhoods and the pulse of daily activity. It can be daunting at times, especially when one doesn’t know the language, but it’s also comforting to be where the people are, going about lives that are strikingly similar to our own despite the varied contexts.
I’m not quite as good at seeing the exotic in the familiar. Yet I know it’s there, hiding in plain sight. When Drew was in first grade, his teacher assigned the students to write to their grandmothers (and great-grandmothers, if they were lucky enough to have them) with questions about daily life when they were children. It was one of the most memorable school experiences I know of, because the letters we received in answer to Drew’s inquiries were fascinating to the point of seeming exotic.
These were women I thought I knew well, but I learned things about them I had never known. We also realized that their school experiences, so different from those of today’s children, were scarcely mentioned in the history texts. I came away with the understanding of how little of our past is ever documented, and how much it comes to life when told in everyday details that historians often leave out.
The popularity of scrapbooks, journals and blogs is adding exponentially to the everyday history that is being recorded, and I’m so glad! When I read posts from Bindu or Z or Sydney Fong, or look at the beautiful photos from Cindy Knoke, Michael Lai, or another Julia who loves to take photos, to name just a few of the many people all over the world whose work I enjoy, I feel a bit more familiar with the exotic. And I am inspired to discover the exotic in my own familiar life, things that are unique to my particular world that I am happy to share with others.
I invite you to join in the worldwide conversation by reading, commenting, or starting your own blog or online journal to introduce other people to your corner of the world. I think you’ll find, as I did, that the blogging community is a friendly and supportive group, where newcomers are always welcome. It’s a wonderful antidote to the news media stories about conflict, hostility and fear. There’s a lot of good news out here in the blogosphere – welcome to our world!
In even the smallest matter
Detail of a bead art picture in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico 2004
“Be satisfied with success in even the smallest matter, and think that even such a result is no trifle.” — Marcus Aurelius
If you’ve ever been to Puerto Vallarta, Guadalajara or certain other well-known Mexican cities, you probably have seen the beautiful artwork created with tiny seed beads or yarn in the tradition of the Huichol people. With painstaking exactitude they create brilliantly colored items with complex designs that delight the eye and intrigue the mind. In many shops, tourists can watch the artists at work and marvel at the patience and care with which they produce unique treasures.
While I love the yarn paintings, I am most fascinated by the intricate beadwork. Those of us who have reached “a certain age” might find it difficult to even see the tiny beads, let alone place them one by one with delicate precision until a large work is finished. But the artists handle their miniscule materials with practiced expertise. They remain focused intently on their designs, apparently not distracted by the tourists streaming past to observe works in progress. The finished art collections display convincing evidence that cumulative tiny actions can achieve impressive results.
For the most part, our days are made up of small, seemingly insignificant actions that we scarcely note. With practiced habit we keep house, tend children or execute countless tasks that make up our paid or unpaid vocations. It can be easy to feel unimportant when most of what we do garners little notice or admiration, but we are building a lifetime of accomplishment, the ultimate results of which we likely will never see. As the words of Zechariah 4:10 asks, “Who dares despise the day of small things?”
In the cherry blossom’s shade
The cherry blossoms decorate the tidal basin, sometime in the mid 1970’s
“In the cherry blossom’s shade there’s no such thing as a stranger.” — Kobayashi Issa
Have you ever noticed how often people share their excitement at a beautiful landmark or stunning view? Tourists who have never met offer to take photos for each other, handing expensive cameras to total strangers. Except, as Issa says, there’s no such thing as a stranger when you are enjoying natural beauty or fascinating sights.
I lost count of how many times I visited the Golden Gate Bridge while we lived in northern California, but almost every time I went there, I ended up taking photos for people. I always enjoyed snapping photos of visitors who were obviously having a great time and delighted by the view. And people have kindly offered to take photos for Jeff and me everywhere from Spain to Honduras to Canada and many points in between, giving us unique souvenirs to preserve cherished memories.
It’s easy to complain about tourists and crowds, but I love to see travelers discovering places that are familiar to me. And when I’m traveling, I appreciate the hospitality of locals who take pride in the beauty of their hometowns and countries. In such circumstances, one can almost believe that a peaceful world is not an impossible dream.
Related Posts:
Something is there
Cape Cod National Seashore near Provincetown, Massachusetts, May 2009
I go out
to the pale dunes, to look over
the empty spaces
of the wilderness.
For something is there,
something is there when nothing is there but itself,
that is not there when anything else is.
There are places where vast emptiness stretches so far as to suggest infinity. The more deserted the landscape, the more absent any sounds except those of nature, the more haunting are the memories of visits to these sites. It’s awe-inspiring and a little frightening to stand amid such magnificent isolation. The terrain may vary– I’ve felt such spells cast by locations as distant from one another as the Cape Cod seashore, the Florida Everglades, the mountains of Colorado or the southernmost point of the United States, on the island of Hawaii– but the somber allure is similar regardless of where these lands are located. We will do well to preserve such sanctuaries of peace, these parcels of holy ground where we find again a sense of humility and perspective so often lost in the busyness of human endeavors.
After ecstasy
That’s Drew behind our clothesline in Huber Heights, Ohio, 1986
“After ecstasy, the laundry.” — Zen saying
Perhaps no quote can so succinctly capture the experience of parenthood, especially in its early stages. The unsurpassed joy of holding a newborn baby is quickly tempered by the grinding realities of sleep deprivation, miscellaneous messes to clean up and a never-ending pile of laundry to be done. Yet there is joy even in these daily chores, though it may not appear as such without the benefit of years of hindsight.
Most of life is routine, and for the majority of people, there is no small amount of drudgery involved. But without the stability of sameness, we would have no canvas against which to appreciate the moments of brilliant color and exhilaration that tend to stand out in the foreground of our memories. Decades later, when we look back on what made us happiest, chances are we will remember primarily the subtle beauty of our everyday lives. As you go through your day today, tomorrow, this week, I hope you will listen for the unique rhythms of your particular world, and hear the poetry of the commonplace.
A thousand small ways
My neighbor’s miniature hyacinths add a spot of beauty to my walk, March 2013
“When we are willing to be open-minded, art and beauty come flooding into us in a thousand small ways.” — Julia Cameron
I tend to think of open-mindedness as a trait useful primarily to our rational minds, vital to the examination of ideas, cultures and opposing viewpoints. Yet there are many ways our minds can be open rather than closed. Often we are convinced that we know almost everything about a person, a place, an animal, or even an inanimate object such as a machine. We fail to notice the full picture because our familiarity tells us our full attention is no longer required. Without realizing it, we can close our minds to full awareness.
But living things change; places change; even objects such as computers and electronic devices are likely to have yet-unexplored possibilities. If we can learn to see the familiar as if it were new, our minds would open up to all that is fresh, unexplored, unknown and intriguing.
Whenever I find myself wishing for a new camera, or vacation destination, or new activity or connection, I ask myself: do I have room for something new right now, or do I still need to fully discover what I already have? It’s wonderful to explore and try new things. However, it’s possible to run so quickly from one new thing to another, that we never fully appreciate what we are already doing.
Most days, my walks (whether 2 miles or 5) are along the same roads with exactly the same paths I’ve traveled dozens of times before. It’s easy to pay almost no attention to what I pass, especially while listening to a book on tape. But sometimes– especially when I take my camera– I see things I haven’t noticed before. No two walks are ever exactly the same. I pass different people, see different dogs walking their owners, and chat with different children who stop to pet Pasha. The vegetation changes; new flowers bloom; homeowners decorate their lawns and porches with seasonal touches that add color. All these are examples of easily overlooked beauty that is ours for the taking.
I hope today you will open your eyes, mind and heart to discover those things that are so small or familiar we might miss them. Remember that no two days are exactly alike. What unique joys will be yours today, and today alone?
A light from the shadows
The Oxford pub where sparks were fanned into a flame that grows ever brighter
“From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring…” — J.R.R. Tolkien
These lines are from a poem I have loved for many years. It appears in the first book of J.R.R. Tolkien’s classic Lord of the Rings, but its message has an enduring appeal whether or not one has read the story. The themes of hidden strength and eventual triumph are close to the heart of anyone who is surviving hardship while hoping for better times to come.
When I went to Oxford in December 2005, I went back to the Eagle and Child, the modest St. Giles pub I had first visited a few months earlier. I wanted to take some photographs (including the one above) of the place where Tolkien, C. S. Lewis and other writers met for years to discuss their writing. Tolkien and Lewis, the best known of the group referred to as “the Inklings,” would go on to achieve a degree of fame and popularity they probably never dreamed of during their early Oxford years.
C. S. Lewis is my favorite author. I have a hard time ever choosing a favorite of anything, and when discussing books and writers, the list of worthy contenders is long indeed. But Lewis has earned the superlative through his remarkable ability to distill profound ideas into simple, friendly language that intrigues as it instructs, and comforts as it challenges. His works have been a bright spot in my life for which I’ll always be thankful, and I find myself returning to them again and again.
Who are your favorite writers? Have you any books that are so loved as to seem almost like old friends? Any that shine a light into the dark nights of your life? I wish you many hours, days and years of the unique joy that is found in exploring real and imaginary worlds through books.
This most amazing day
A most amazingly typical day in September 1999, Banff, Alberta, Canada
“I thank you God for this most amazing day, for the leaping greenly spirits of trees, and for the blue dream of sky and for everything which is natural, which is infinite, which is yes.” — E. E. Cummings
It’s a bit hard for me to imagine what it would be like living in a town such as Banff. One of the bloggers who visits regularly with us here lives very near Banff, and I wonder whether she ever gets used to the beauty of the Canadian Rockies. How does one manage to get any work done when it’s so beautiful outdoors? I remember feeling the same way the first time I stood atop the Malibu hill where Pepperdine University overlooks the Pacific Ocean. How on earth does anyone manage to graduate from a school where distracting magnificence lies outside every doorway?
I know how, of course. When we lived in Hawaii, some people on the mainland seemed to think we were on a 3-year extended vacation, with nothing to do but go to the beach every day. In reality we had to go to school, go to work, cook dinner and wash clothes, and do all the other chores of life, with relatively little time leftover to play.
Still, we tried to make as much time as possible to explore the islands and their varied landscapes that went far beyond gorgeous beaches. Whenever I would see one of the incredible rainbows that occur so frequently there, or string a lei from the fragrant plumeria that grew in abundance all around our home, I would remind myself to stop and savor the moments that would all too soon be unavailable on a daily basis.
Living in many different regions has taught me that no place is without beautiful features or interesting sights. But it’s easy to grow so accustomed to the familiar that we lose the wonder of it. Today, I hope you will take Cummings’ words with you and keep eyes open to “everything which is natural, which is infinite, which is yes.”
Poems by heart
A corner of our York back yard on Easter 2012
“It is spring again. The earth is like a child that knows poems by heart.”
— Rainer Maria Rilke
I don’t consider myself a poet, but I do like to write poetry as well as read it. When writing poems I have to curtail the number of words I use so that every single one has an impact. Of course it’s a good idea to do this with all writing, but it’s especially important with poetry, wherein thoughts and emotions arrive in a reader’s mind in concentrated form leaving images that linger.
Rilke’s simile is an apt one, I think. Spring begins with a bare landscape and sparse visible assets. When it is ready, it bursts into blooms that decorate the landscape with vivid color, touching our spirits and renewing our hope. Spring knows its verses by heart, and speaks them (even sings them) to a delighted audience weary of winter and longing for youthful energy. May its winsome performance bring joy to your heart today!
A little nonsense
Pluto clowns with Matt at Walt Disney World in Florida, 2004
“A little nonsense now and then is relished by the wisest men.” — Joseph Addison
Happy April Fool’s Day! Laughter is one of the greatest gifts we can give ourselves or others. I hope you will indulge in some light-hearted fun today — look up a joke or two to share, sing silly songs, watch a funny movie with someone who needs to lighten up — but if you want to fool anyone, please keep your pranks kind and sensitive. And if anyone comes to you today with an unlikely tale of woe or unbelievable good news, think twice before you believe it! 🙂
Let’s share some humor with each other today. Do you have a link to a funny YouTube video, a favorite online joke or a hilarious photo? If so, please post it in the comments here and let’s laugh together. I wish you a day full of fun!
Here is one of my favorite “viral videos” – I hope you get a laugh or a smile out of it!
(It’s only 35 seconds long.)
Our song
The rose window of Sainte-Chappelle, Paris, 2005
“Do not abandon yourselves to despair. We are the Easter people and hallelujah is our song.” — Pope John Paul II
Though I have never been a Roman Catholic, I was drawn to the writings of John Paul II. His erudition and resolve impressed me, but I connected most with his steadfast devotion to the theme that came to define his papacy: “Fear not!”
Today is the most joyful holiday in the Christian calendar, the culmination of the story that begins with the incarnation of “God with us” that so many people celebrate at Christmas. Whether or not you observe Easter as a religious holiday, I wish for each of you who read this message the confident faith, enduring hope and unshakable joy I feel today. May we all live in recognition that “hallelujah is our song.”
Divine surprise
Washington National Cathedral, April 2005
“The story of Easter is the story of God’s wonderful window of divine surprise.”
— Carl Knudsen
It’s possible to hope with complete assurance for something, and still be delightfully surprised when you get more than you asked for. That’s how Christmas morning often felt to me in childhood; the anticipation, though great, never quite captured the magic of what we saw when we rushed downstairs before dawn. It’s also how I felt when our sons were born; no matter how much I imagined we would love them, it didn’t come close to the joy of actually holding them and seeing them face to face.
Thus it is that we can live a life of deep faith and steadfast trust, and still we cannot begin to imagine what lies ahead. As promised in I Corinthians 2:9, we wait in confident expectation for things we are now unable to fathom: for the miracle of divine surprise.
Defeat Despair 