Surprises

Do you ever have those moments when you see something and you wish you had a camera to capture the moment because you're fairly certain you'll never see that sight again? I had just such a moment this morning and I'm still kicking myself that I didn't have a digital camera on hand (note to self: it's time to invest in a digital camera!). The next best thing was to do an image search for icicles and sunlight. The picture on your right is as close a reproduction of the awesome sight I witnessed this morning, but you have to imagine an entire street as far as the eye could see on either side sparkling intensely like that.

It was one of those divine surprises through nature: a little burst of joy! When I left home earlier this morning, the day was grey, chilly, morose...I headed out with my head partially tucked into my scalf and my eyes on the ground watching for black ice patches. I'd just spent about five minutes fruitlessly scraping at my car. I realized, eventually, that there was no way I could get it road-ready and be able to make it to Mass on time. So, I'd set out on foot instead. I was going briskly and was pleased to find that, although the sidewalks looked a little messy, they weren't too slippery. That made my way easier. However, when one of the parishoners and his family stopped to give me a lift, I took it gladly. My bones haven't quite acclimatized to the cooler weather yet and I find myself diving into warm spaces without too much prompting. By February, I'll be walking around fearlessly like any natural-born Canadian, but this is only November, after all!

Anyway, the hint of a surprise on the offing started as I sat in the church and suddenly realized that there was an unexpected shaft of light coming in through one window. The occasional ping of melting ice outside the window was also promising. By the time I emerged forty-five minutes later, there was a great expanse of unlimited blue ceiling with a few stray whisps of white cloud trailing along. Behind me was an ominous grey mass of cloud trying to looking imposing, but utterly failing next to the sheer blue beauty whose proportions roughly rivalled that of a small ocean. And then, the sun came out!

Within instants, the bright blue sky became a prelude to glory. Every bit of ice on tree, ground, hedge and shingle became a prism. As if the earth had suddenly caught a glimpse of its own magnificence, it sighed, and all the trees started gently swaying in the breeze and the sound was as if a million party-goers had lifted their forks and started tapping on the rims of their crystal glasses. The breeze had also stirred up some of the snow, so there were particles of light dancing in the air and settling on my face. It was one of the most delightful experiences of the snow so far. Funny how I forget, every year, how wonderful the ice and snow is. I've been dreading it this year because I enjoyed being outdoors so much over the past few months, but after seeing what I saw today, I'm finally eager to see the landscape draped in white again. I won't go so far as to say I'm eager for the slick sidewalks, but it is good to be reminded that even ice---when suspended on a tree---is a thing of gratuitous beauty.

And speaking of surprises: I know I've already passed this on to most people on my mailing list, but in case you haven't seen it yet, you've got to watch how a food court full of unsuspecting shoppers at the Seaway Mall in Welland, Ontario, were transported out of their ordinary lives last week by a group of ingenious singers. (Thank you, Rebecca and Mrs. Walker for passing this along). It is definitely one of the coolest things I've seen in a while! Enjoy! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SXh7JR9oKVE

Oh, What A Beautiful Morning!!

It's 7:25 a.m. and I've been up for an hour and a half. I'm sipping on a cup of coffee, the curtains are open letting in the (somewhat dull) morning light, and periodically I can feel a cool breeze on the back of my neck. Being up at this hour is no easy feat. You see, I could be in bed, blanket thrown over my head with at least another two hours of shut-eye ahead of me, but last night I made a resolution.

I decided that I need to make myself a morning person. It goes back to my Spring/Summer To-Do List. Sure, I've been able to cross off a few items, but Spring is almost over and if I don't get cracking, I'm going to have an awful lot to do come Summer time. I figured that, if I can start organizing my days a little better---get into some kind of routine---it will make the days not only seem longer and more productive, but I'll also feel like I'm living with a bit more sense of purpose.

Now, I've never been a lazy person. In fact, I once asked my spiritual director what the opposite of lazy is and she said "activism." Maybe you share my malady: you're usually rushing around with about ten different items on your to-do list, all of which should have been done yesterday according to your precise calculations and exceptional prioritization skills; the word "vacation" is banished from all your conversations when made in reference to yourself; and, when a holiday is suddenly thrust upon you, you spend it making to-do lists and thinking of all the things you really should be doing instead of putting your feet up! Unhealthy lifestyle? You bet!

Now, you may be wondering why---with this activism problem---I feel the need to be up at such an ungodly hour in order to....um....accomplish some of those undone things on my to-do list. Well, my particular brand of activism seems to be the result of no discipline and little structure. The other day, I stumbled upon Jennifer Bertman's blog, The Mixed-Up Files, which is a neat place to find out about the "creative spaces" of various artists. I was reading Jennifer's account of the children's book illustrator, Johanna Wright (whose work is worth looking into if you have an eye for the whimsical). Johanna outlined what a typical day is like for her and, for an artist-type, it struck me how pedantic it seemed: get up, eat, go to a local coffee shop to brainstorm picture ideas, come home, answer and send emails, paint, run errands, order supplies, paint a bit more....And that's her daily life with slight variations! Reflecting on that made me think of Charles Dickens and William Makepeace Thackeray, both of whom worked as public servants and would wake up early enough to get in some writing before dashing off to work. And what about all those amazing people behind the walls of monasteries, up before the crack of dawn and putting their minds, hearts and souls to the proverbial plow while most of us are turning over in bed or hitting the snooze button?

Now, I have nothing against sleeping in. In fact, I'll probably maintain the practice at least once a week, but there's definitely something to be said for rising early and making a start. Discipline is not a dirty word. Maybe rising early will give me more time to do what I have to do so that I'll actually enjoy my times of rest when they come....Maybe I'll even take a vacation one of these days! Maybe living an ordinary life doesn't mean being mediocre. So, I'm writing all this down in an effort to concretize the resolution and be somewhat accountable. If anyone out there has any good tips on how to make the most of a day, let me know!