This week has been delightfully offbeat. Today was a lovely, unexpected kind of day following completely in line with the others. Maybe it's the shiny snow that refuses to melt away. Maybe it's how my week turned out very differently than I anticipated, reminding me how magical and mysterious the future really is. My life isn't measured out in teaspoons, Mr. Prufrock... or little calendar boxes.
Maybe in lieu of the perfect little square boxes, calendar makers should shape divvy up the days of a month like puzzle pieces. No two days the same size or shape to remind us how special Tuesday, January 11, 2011 really was. The blank or metered-out rectangle of a normal calendar gives an illusion of control and boredom. That the days are little dominoes in a row to fall neatly one after the other.
Not that there isn't rhythm and meter in a week. Ritual and repetition are lovely and necessary. I'm not proposing eliminating Monday mornings or Thursday afternoons, but to celebrate them in the same manner the Mad Hatter celebrates unbirthdays. He's right, you know, unbirthdays are rather splendid days.
Maybe I should designate all unbirthdays that fall on Mondays "celebrate a friend" day and write or call one of my friends to tell them how he or she sparkles. Tuesday could be "celebrate a word day" and I could pick a word of the day to run into the ground-- or to say with an accent-- or I could blog it over and over again like "maybe" in this entry. Wednesday could be "celebrate food", and I could decide to eat 100 french fries or to savor a bowl of my delicious pumpkin curry soup. Thursday could be "celebrate music" day, and I could choose a genre or sing along or dance around in my socks. Friday could be "celebrate silly" day and make fun of my ridiculous self all day long or wear a feather in my hair or something else to let people know that my eyes twinkle even when I sleep. Saturday could be "celebrate small tasks" day and turn vacuuming into a game or dish washing into fun. Sunday could be "celebrate rest" day, and I could take a long, luxurious nap!
These are just examples. I could just as easily celebrate running or weather. Imagine how different my mornings would be if I considered inclement weather as adventure instead of imposition. We have a good and gracious God worth celebrating-- and so is his creation. Maybe I need to recalibrate my attitude from complaining and cynical jabs to little outbursts of wonder and awe of the amazing, zany, and exciting things that happen in a day. I get so focused on a door slamming that I don't even feel the orange light of the sunrise streaking through the window. Instead I let the the slam echo in my ears instead of stare in awe at the gorgeous day dawning. I'm so sure I know how my life is going to turn out. God must laugh and shake his head.
For instance today I went into a hen house and rooted around for eggs and talk about African versus Italian bees. Like I saw that coming. Plus I took the verbal section of the SAT and read really interesting excerpts about the fundamental physics. Who saw that coming to someone in her thirties? This was no boring calendar slab. Celebrate surprise! Celebrate strange! Celebrate failed plans!
2 comments:
"Maybe I need to recalibrate my attitude from complaining and cynical jabs to little outbursts of wonder and awe of the amazing, zany, and exciting things that happen in a day."
This is exactly the change I was talking about when referring to my younger self. Change occurs as you move through the decades of life, and I simply chose HOW to grow older - sometimes not more easily, but revisiting one's own attitude can be both exhilarating and humbling! :D
Oh, and beautifully written... you nailed it.
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