4 posts tagged “joy”
After the series of heavy posts over here at Bamboo Journal, I feel it the need to lighten it up around here. So here goes...
If you're American when you go into the bathroom...
And you're American when you come out of the bathroom...
What are you when you are in the bathroom?
Give up?
European (get it: You're-a-pee'in!)
This is the of our favorites at our house. Such is life with a 6 year old. Its all potty humor and silly puns. I wish I had something better in my back pocket.
But in all seriousness I have done a bit of laughing around here, despite the momentous place that I am in. Laughter is a sport I excel at. I really do like it all, the silly, the ironic, the over-the-top, the sarcastic, and yes the potty humor too. And I love the crazy place of laughing so hard that you start laughing because of the laughing. So I have been thankful for all the laughter this past week--and for those who made me laugh with their clever wit and bad jokes.
Some other things to be thankful for? Camping. I am hitting the woods with a chunk of my tribe again this coming weekend. I can already smell the campfire and hear the music. No matter that the last few weeks have been kind of heavy...after sitting around the great outdoors with dear dear friends, a glass of wine and the blues in the air I will be blissed out for weeks to come. Lighter than air...
So as not to hit you with two bad jokes I will leave you on this note (pun absolutely intended). This little song has had me singing at the top of my lungs all week. Its crept into my head and has had me twirling.
May joy bubble up through your heaviest moments this week.
"Seeing the small is called clarity"
---Lao Tsu
The other day Max looked at me with big big eyes and said, "Mom...Big things come in small packages." He was so sincere as he uttered this cliche, my heart just melted. Since then I have been reflecting on this childhood wisdom, so simple and sweet. It seems that lately for me the greatest wonder has come in the smallest of things. The fantastic, big and splashy become lost on me--they seem to get dissolve almost instantly into disappointment or some sort of anticlimax. Whenever I focus on the big, it leaves me feeling a bit let down.
But the small never fails to fascinate. Perhaps it is the humility of the tiny that make the small so endearing. Perhaps it is the surprise of tiny that thrills. Perhaps it is the intimacy that instantly touches my heart. I don't know why, but these days I am big on small.
When we were in West Virginia last weekend we found hundreds of the tiniest of shells along the beach. Each one was a marvel into itself, as perfectly formed in every detail as their huge seaside cousins. I was drawn in by these wonders, so precious and sweet and understated.
The sweetness of small this week has been captured in the joy of a single hour on a friend's front steps sipping wine, of a spoonful of mint chocolate chip icecream, of 5 minutes of stillness in the morning when no one else was awake, of 20 minutes of nonstop giggling as Max dances in the kitchen with our new roommate.
May hundreds of tiny sweetnesses fill your week.
We just returned home from West Virginia. The house is quiet now, the unpacking of dirty clothes, of camping gear and photos has been done in a burst of efficiency. Max is fast asleep. The crickets alone keep my company.
Last week when I woke to my 7th straight day of a migraine I knew something had to change. It wasn't just the migraines however that had me shaking. I felt like I was struggling, that nothing I did was enough to make it work. The balancing of work and parenting and being a good friend all seemed to be too much. I felt myself tightening from want.
It must have been the Universe who inspired my dear Jackie to call me and invite us to the woods. At the time she offered it sounded as though it was the only thing I should do. We dropped everything and ran.
I should know now that there is nothing that grounds me like eating and sleeping outside among the trees. The energy of the woods, the mountains, the river repairs me even when I am at my most frayed. Over and over again I rediscover this about myself. I am not sure why I forget so easily.
Indeed it was everything I needed to soothe my tired brain, my achey grouchy soul. It was like an amazing power nap, a kind of (in the words of Eric) reboot for the brain. I feel as though I have been away for weeks, I am so refreshed. The stresses that seemed to paralyze me last week have floated away, like leaves carried away by a stream. Joy is now running circulating freely once more--no longer stuck in the muck am I.
Indeed I feel the entire universe conspired to make this weekend perfect. The sky was the most intense cloudless blue, the air temperature was perfect. It felt as though the forest was in cahoots with our merry band of travelers. The river was perfectly refreshing for us. There were long stretches of little children laughing, shrieking, falling down from silliness. And beautiful moments of silence. And music. And endless firewood. And the perfect amount of yummy food.
Alone and together in shifting combinations we moved about the day, collecting, observing, creating. Each moment unfolded effortlessly as both chaos and community flowed as sweetly as the Potomac around the bend, rippling and bubbling and smoothing out the edges of our lives.
I feel so inspired in so many ways but I feel I cannot unpack it all just yet. I struggle here, tripping over my own bliss as I try and write about it, about the way I feel somehow knit back to together around my frayed edges. I just know that I am. And that at this moment is enough.
For more photos of our adventure, click here.
Yesterday dear dear Dolores and her cute guitarist hubby Morgan sent me this picture from their party.
(Deep sigh)
I am still buzzing from the music. I have a bit to write tonight but wanted to post this separately.
Long live Rock and Roll!
