‘The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.’
I wonder if Thoreau suspected that his words would prove truer than ever in our century of waxing connectivity and waning connection. It’s hard some days to stop in the moment and shut off the outer / inner noise because I’m scared to hear the quiet. But giving thanks weights the silence. Fills it eloquently. Makes me brave.
Here are this week’s 39 things:
118 Swirling and laughing with Scott in Granny’s pool
119 The way Cam trips – elbow grazed – blood seeps – brushes off dust – gets up running
120 Coffee tables that invite feet
121 Morning light the colour of quiet and birdsong
122 A candle on the supper table every night
123 Zebras and baby springbok in the parking lot at Rademeyer’s
124 Murray’s ‘Tell me about your day…’
125 A crested barbet tap-tapping a home
126 The kind of friends where I don’t feel obliged to put on a tablecloth or sweep the stoep
127 Chocolate cupcake crumbs around Cam’s happy mouth
128 Connections with strangers – like a conversation on the driveway with a man digging in dustbins
129 Genetically modified male mozzies bringing down the incidences of dengue fever in developing countries. Like, wow.
130 My blue teapot plus two bags of Earl Grey
131 Un-tucking stiff clean cool sheets
132 Talk Radio 702
133 Our red kettle whistling the promise of tea and conversation
134 BBM emoticons
135 Strong bold glaring Scriptures. Hard to swallow. Good.
136 The Prozeskys
137 Nanna’s wondrous fish pond, transfixing my boys
138 Lead SA
139 More questions than answers. Lending me life.
140 A God big enough for questions and anger
141 Soft summery mangoes – sticky wonder
142 Tennyson’s Ulysses framed in my kitchen (‘…To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.’)
143 My co-author home from Australia and fabricating fantastical stories for unwritten pages
144 A hospital plan
145 Slow unfurling of candy clouds in still blue sky
146 Les Miserables. Oh. My. Word. (I mean, do you hear the people sing?)
147 Nuts in a salad
148 Unprompted pleases and thank yous from little lips
149 Wednesdays with Scott
150 Cousins and friends in far-flung countries made near on my screen
151 Anything with feta
152 Remembering how we ate souvlaki in Naxos with our feet in the sea
153 Barriers broken by kids in supermarket trolleys (in a broken world full of broken people)
154 The way my Dad’s top lip twitches when he’s trying not to laugh
155 Hanging out in the ‘house’ on top of the jungle gym with Scott
156 The following, in an email from a friend:
If this finds you at your work station between boys and cups of coffee, I hope it finds you courageous at the start of a new week’s rhythm. As daunting as sitting to type, or rising to stir because the heart can’t find the words is… know that there is life in the reaching for words, there is flesh in the excavation of hearts. Jesus life. Jesus flesh. So grab some more coffee and trust the divine heartbeat. That’s the rhythm.
Are you finding your rhythm? Is your thanksgiving gathering momentum, in the noise and the quiet?
(Feet photo courtesy of imgur.com)