Magic at the park

I take nearly daily walks at a park outside my neighborhood. It's small, but has a great walking path marked at quarter mile intervals. Today was an absolute delight.

As I walked, a low hanging branch partially blocked my way. I would have had to stoop slightly to avoid getting smacked in the face. Just as I approached it, a small gust of wind lifted the branch over my head, allowing me to walk under unaccosted. It almost felt like it was saluting.

Further on the path I noticed a plastic bag being blown by the wind, parallelling me, looking very much like a small white apparition dancing. At one point the trees cleared and I was able to pick it up and properly dispose of it, not wanting it to become a danger to local wildlife.

But the most magical thing of all was as I walked along, and in the middle of the path on the ground, I found a small white flower. It looked so forlorn and forgotten, and out of place. In October, a flower lay on the ground. Of course I picked it up, brought it home, snipped the end, and put it in a glass of water. Now it graces my stove.

Take time today to notice and delight in the unexpected. It is worth it!

Dining as a celebration

Over the past year, I've read a number of books on French customs. While there was a handful of things that did not resonate with me, one thing in particular did: the way French view food and dining.

Dining should not only be a delicious, sensual experience, but it should be a celebration! Fast or hurried food is not a part of this equation. Homecooked food is always best, and lingering around the table a must. Since reading about this idea, I have adopted it in my home.

I read a quote somewhere that said, "Everybody eats, but few people dine." Eating good food is like reading good books; it is worth sitting down for. So, for starters, I set the table. I don't use the plastic dishes we've acquired over the years, but the nicer, breakable ones. I also prefer to make plates for everyone, because it just seems a nicer presentation. And, of course, wine is essential. I try to use placemats and cloth napkins because I like them. I like to play slow, pleasant music in the background, because it is believed to cause people to take smaller bites, chew longer, and eat slower.

We eat mindfully, aware of our food and how it came to be on our table. We eat slowly, in order to savor each bite and flavor. And we talk. And talk. And talk. I prefer leaving aside any topics that will cause indigestion, so unlike the French, we don't discuss politics or any subject that might upset the civil mood I try to create. I read once that the brain will create chemicals that counteract effective digestion when we worry, fret, or argue. Those topics are most welcome other times, but not while dining.We sit at the table a long while, talking, enjoying a glass of wine, taking pleasure in the company present. In Spain, this practice is known as sobremesa; it's the time after a meal to digest, converse, and relax around the table.

I extend this even to the times I eat alone. Often I will use other plates that lack a complete set, but are still nice. I eat slowly and mindfully, not in front of the tv, and often without a book. Admittedly, after a few bites, I might open up a book I'm currently reading, but I definitely try to not start off that way. I do usually save the wine for supper, not lunch.

I decided to research some dining customs in other countries, and it was fascinating! In France, one doesn't ask for seconds, but in Greece, it is considered a compliment to ask for seconds and even thirds. In America, children are taught to clean their plates and not waste food, but in some Asian countries, cleaning your plate is an insult to host because it suggests they did not feed you enough.

The Mexican culture emphasizes that eating a meal together, strengthens a family. I agree. So if you don't dine together as a family already, strive to do so at least once a week, and make it special. Make it a celebration!

Living a Life Enchanted

Often in our lives we find ourselves out of sorts, out of balance, and we don't know why. We just can't put our finger on it. Today there are so many things we see and hear, on the news, on social networks, in conversations, and it is easy to despair. We become overwhelmed and depressed, and seek solace where we can find it. Hopefully we find it in healthy pursuits and not self destruct.

Thomas More said, “An enchanted world is one that speaks to the soul, to the mysterious depths of the heart and imagination where we find value, love, and union with the world around us." This is one of the healthy pursuits I mentioned above, one where we seek to find "value, love, and union with the world around us." It can be difficult when we look too far, but is surprising to find if we look closer, around our homes, around our communities. This blog is not my attempt to wear rose colored glasses and pretend terrible things don't happen. It is my attempt to find the magic that surrounds me, in the little things; things I would miss because I hurry by. Finding happiness and peace in a cup of tea, the purr of a cat, or the way pine needles dance on my truck before the wind blows them off. It's about finding ways to leave a little magic as well, smiling at passersby at the park, holding a door for someone, rescuing a turtle trying to cross a busy street.

It's not about being perfect or even trying to be. It's about gratitude. It's about joy.

It is my hope that as I share those small, magical moments in my day, others will share theirs. FDR said, "We have always held to the hope, the belief, the conviction, that there is a better life, a better world, beyond the horizon." I would rather a better life, a better world not be beyond the horizon, but here, where I am, now. Perhaps we can build a better world collectively.