I was standing in the kitchen, buttering a rice cake, when the Wil-de-beast magically appeared and chanted over my shoulder, “Do you really think THAT’S a good food choice- a rice cake slathered in BUTTER?”
I told him that women need a little extra fat in order to menstruate. That shut him up. I turned to hide my mischievous grin and continued to butter the rest of my recycled packing material for consumption. Truth is- I would eat butter on a rock if it meant I could have it.
Besides- I need to butter-up in order to continue to support the Wil-de-beast in his exercise program.
I’d like you all to know- I doubled my miserable minutes in that Insanity program. I haven’t gotten past the warm-up and I already want to punch that guy that keeps saying “How we doin’ y’all? Keep pushin’, keep pushin’!” All that breathless sweatiness- just to be buff.
Don’t tell anyone- I’m actually sore.
But this really isn’t about exercise. It’s about adding up the little things. It’s about capturing moments to be alive and being thankful for them.
I did three favorite things that day:
1. I took a walk back into the woods:
My favorite part of the walk was the path…. I like places that have been worn away by routine- places that tell a story; places that echo with history. I like the patches that get worn away below the swings on a swing set. I like doors that creak, porch swings that creak, and stairs that creak. I hope George Bailey never fixes the finial that comes off in his hand on It’s a Wonderful Life. I like the feel of the old pages of a book. I like a well-worn path.
2. I worked on my garden patch:
I was thinking- as I worked on digging a new edge around the garden where the grass creeps in- that never in my life have I had to pull away so fiercely to get outside to work and breathe. Sometimes, I feel so overwhelmed with details and with tasks- that my day can go from morning to night- and feel as if there’s nothing in it; or is it that I’m not taking account of and being grateful for the little things that are there? Maybe a combination of both. Maybe the pace is too fast and my focus maladjusted. As an artist and a writer- my soil needs to be amended regularly- I need to put good stuff in, in order to get good stuff out. I need to do away with creeping weeds and open myself for the the battering of the till. I must have deep furrows in order for seed to stand a chance of sprouting. Both rain and sun must beat upon my breast so that with time and continual surrender good fruit will come.
3. I put laundry away in my bedroom during a thunderstorm:
The sky was many shades of gray- tumultuous and filled with electricity. I opened the windows wide and watched the rain come in phases- at times pounding furiously on the rooftop outside my window. When the rain fell soft, I played some favorite love songs and found myself deep in hidden places. I dreamed of days past and lost myself in the sweet sadness that’s just inches beneath the surface of every waking moment. I had a little Pride and Prejudice moment- and a thought came to me.
I’ve noticed- that since my Taylor-bean isn’t around much- I live in a world of mostly men. That’s been a big change for me. This realm has it’s own particular sweetness- but some of the creative, girly things that happened naturally from day to day- now have to be intentionally sought after in order to bring balance. I have to break away from the muscles, sweat, and ball-bouncing to enjoy more feminine sorts of little things. Not that my men don’t enjoy thunderstorms and love songs… it’s just that those things don’t come in to the flow as easily.
With the rain and the song, I felt ideas, dreams, and memories begin to weave in and out of the melodies and I ran to get my book of thoughts and ideas so I could jot them down.
Oh, sweet and happy little things…
How about you? Any little thing you would like to share? Thanks for taking this journey with me…