Sunday, March 25, 2018

In Praise of Celebrating Small Occasions

I have a friend who celebrates small occasions. It's not that she ignores big occasions, but as part of her professional life, she has learned that sometimes celebrating small occasions can be the more powerful tool.

She is an interfaith chaplain in an urban hospital, which means that not only is she versed in the rituals of multiple faith traditions but she has become aware of the life -- and death -- traditions of people from all over the world. She believes in the power of art and tangible items to help us honor and hold the power of each moment.  And I have benefited from this practice of hers, too.

For example, in February, she gave me a mug with a W on it. My name doesn't begin with a W but as I looked at this beautiful ceramic mug, with it's twining flowers and vines, she explained that she wanted me to know that she knew I was experiencing a mark in time. She was aware that I was holding it heavily and that the W stood for "Wonder Woman". She told me she was proud of me for my strength in the previous year. I was moved to tears, by the beauty of the gift and the loving gesture behind it.

I am a believer in this practice, too. My friend is a giver of cards, a remember-er of occasions. I rarely quote the Bible but one verse that has always been a powerful one for me comes from the book of Isaiah. Isaish 43:1, which in the English Standard Version is translated as:  "I have called you by name, you are mine."

This idea that something bigger than us -- for which you can use the word "God", if you like -- knows us that well and is calling us by name is a powerful idea. To be known so well that the smallest of moments can be held up and honored can go beyond language. For me, at least. 

SO today, I celebrate. And YOU are part of this celebration too. Last week was the anniversary of this blog. ONE YEAR of blogging. I know there are much more prolific bloggers than I but this is a mark of time I couldn't imagine reaching. 

One day at a time, as they say in AA. One post at a time.

So friends, thank you for listening and reading. I have appreciated the feedback you've given me. Go find some delicious cake or cookies, whatever strikes your fancy. Pour a cup of something hot and raise your glass. Cheers to one year...and onto the next. 

Salut!



Sunday, March 4, 2018

On Knowing Gratitude

As I write this, I am sitting in front my fireplace, three layers clothes on and a comforter around my shoulders. There has been no power in my house for the last 26 hours due to a storm that has blasted the northeast all day yesterday and this morning, an unprecedented storm of wind and rain. A Bomb Cyclone, Bombogensis. That’s the word they’re using now. Historic flooding, hurricane-force winds. Our mayor announced that Quincy – which I understand is getting quite a bit of media attention including the Weather Channel – hasn’t seen anything like this since the Blizzard of ’78. Go us!

This morning, I attempted to leave my neighborhood but quickly had to abandon the idea. The high tides had been magnified by a full moon yesterday and didn’t exit, as they normally do. Marshes behind my and my neighbor’s yards were unlike anything I’d ever seen. Not just the usual look -- plumes of phragmites and and weeds, waving and rustling above pockets of water – but had filled up and became a flowing river, movement pushed by wind. The main road out of my peninsula neighborhood was cut off. I tried the other back-road way, only to find that the low-lying section of road had gushing water pouring over what had been street. Even my sturdy Honda CRV would have been swamped. I turned back.  We are an island. 

I write often about gratitude. You may be wondering: why now?

As I write this, I am sitting in front of the fireplace, as I said, many layers of clothes & comforter and now, in fact, I have a dog on my lap. Success, they said, is where luck meets preparation.  This morning, I saw houses that were islands, surrounded by water. I can’t begin to even guess how much damage is out there. But, my house is dry. Through some miracle of placement, just high enough above the worst of it, I dodged it. I am in the flood plain but somehow, missed it.

And I was ready to do what I could. A stash of wood, C batteries for the radio, flashlights and candles out.

SO my gratitude is for all of it. I am grateful that my basement is dry and that I know how to keep a good fire going.

The other piece which is always, always in my consciousness, is how many people in the world live so meagerly *all the time*, without hope of improvement, ever. SO many, torn by war and poverty, right now, in situations far more dire and terrifying than mine. Me? I have first-world problems. Dear God. When news of Syria comes on, I force myself to listen to ever detail, NOT turn it off because that is the definition of privilege. I sit in my car to charge my cell phone? That is NOT a problem; that’s a luxury.

When the power returns, as it surely will, it will feel luxurious. I will wash in hot water. I will take the dog for a walk, not feeling like I must stay to feed the fire. I will do laundry and bake bread in my oven. I will post this because the wi-fi will be back.

Yes, I am a lucky, lucky sister, and I know it.

Your encore for the day? Count your blessings. Do it.

Be grateful.

Peace.