Beautiful Day

Sometimes I wish I could be music.

Not really thinking in solid thoughts on this beautiful Monday. I could probably conjure something concrete to get the pen moving, but the words just don’t meld right, today. Yeah, it would be cool to be music right now.

I’ve felt my throat catch on a few occasions lately, seeing kindness displayed between people where you would never expect it. And I’ve had opportunity to wonder at the coldness some people make their way through. Times lacking warmth or hope; horrible situations, and they put a foot in front of the other, and the other, making their determined way to… what? The possibility that things will get better.

Makes me want to stand up and cheer for them.

When life is full and bright, and filled with wonder, it’s hard to remember how lonely and futile it can all seem.

But it’s always beautiful. I donno how, but some way… There have been times I felt most sensitized to creation at my lowest low, when everything felt like it was over. I remember sitting still, and the motion of a branch being blown about by the wind would pull me in. The way the leaves flutter in an ever changing pattern of light and shadow; this isn’t from me, it does not depend on me, these things continue always and ever around me, but they speak to me. Life can intertwine so tenderly in the midst of heartache and strife, I’m disobliged to look away.

Happiness does this too. Is it this, the inexplicable beauty of the living world, that allows people to move forward?

These feelings that extend your nerve endings past the edge of your skin, those feelings are somehow a part; They make your heart so big, you feel everything.

My daughter has gotten so tall. I keep thinking I’ll be used to it, but I turn a corner into a room, and there she is, all these feet and inches of little girl, and it keeps startling me somehow that the chubby cheeked five year old has given way to this half-grown human. She’s still her, you know. Same eyes, same smile, but I want to slow the context down. I’m not ready for her to be seven yet, much less nine.

Yet I’m sending up praises, too. To the clouds in the big, fluffy sky. She’s healthy! She’s happy! She’s beautiful! Look how she grows! And like every mom, I think we play these moments close to the chest, doled out in sharp, short bursts because it is too frightening to reside on the fragility of a flower. The strength of that stalk is relative to the kindness of the elements, so you send a fierce prayer to the world with words for fair weather.

Yeah, i wish i could be music today.

Life is heart-breakingly beautiful, and all we’ve got down here are words.


13 thoughts on “Beautiful Day

  1. >>but the words just don’t meld right

    I disagree. That was beautiful. The images and thoughts took me outside myself.

    Funny, I’ve felt my throat catch too, lately, at odd moments. Maybe there’s something in the air.

  2. In the background the song that’s playing is Kind and Generous by Natalie Merchant. The perfect soundtrack to a beautiful post.

    The times when I’m happy are numerous and hit me throughout the course of the average day. The times when I’m filled with joy occur less frequently and the common thread throughout those joy filled moments are my girls. Sometimes it’s just a kiss or a hug or wiping a tear or when one of them wants to cuddle or tells me that she loves me or when I hear one of them say bubbles for the first time. That’s joy at it’s most fundamental. I’m blessed to know such joy and I give thanks for that every day.

  3. This is too bizarre. You reminded me of a quote I once read, maybe 20 years ago, that “women think in puddles.”

    I quoted it to a feminist coworker whom I briefly dated once who took a little umbrage (somewhat feigned, I suspect, or maybe feeling obliged) and I pointed out that a woman had said it.

    So I just googled the phrase and the third result of 518,000 was this:

    Just a little bit crazy « Stop and Wander
    A female novelist once observed that women basically think in puddles. You, my friend, might be her exhibit A. amuirin Says: July 7th, 2007 at 3:59 pm … – 20k – Cached – Similar pages

  4. I’m so happy to see everyone! well… ‘see’…you know what I mean.

    ty, ty for all the kind words. Robin, you always know just what to say. Hi Brendan, thanks for visiting :) stevo- shucks, you can disagree with me any time. Bongo! Paul! Ben! Bibliomom- you know, that so comes through in your writing and photographs, too. That joy.

    “bubbles” is an inherently awesomy word.

    Hey Gorillas. Ty. You can’t kill the rooster.

    (that made me laugh, Ben. I remember that comment. I still say ‘hmph’)

    And now. I’m going to go put my feet on ice.

  5. Do you ever wonder why we find the world beautiful? In Alain de Botton’s Architecture of Happiness, he writes about a man who managed to ride by horse around a lake without even noticing it was there. (Book is essentially about the effect of surroundings on people). Not all respond is seems but still why? Why do we find even hostile environments to be beautiful to look at? Is it because of a common origen (Earth) or is it that we would find any constant surrounding to be pleasant after a time?

    And yes, it is disconcerting that when one is awe-filled one forgets the gray existence times and vice versa. Too bad we can’t be batteries and store up the sun against the other times.

  6. aos- it is interesting how certain people are sensitized by certain things. the way our brains focus in, maybe there are those who dismiss beauty as background noise.

    But intense emotions seems to reconnect a being with it’s surroundings, somehow.

    That battery idea… I wish.

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