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Two weeks ago, at my final residency before graduation, I took a class that was to prepare us for life “after” school. We discussed the different ways to keep our writing life “alive;” how to journal six minutes a day, how to take care of ourselves, how to submit our writing out into the world. We went around our table of twelve and each decided what would be a meaningful month-long endeavor to encourage our creativity. Some people focused on word-count, number of pages, and how much time to spend each week on writing. Others decided to read more, or take some retreats away from home to get more solace and alone time. I was among the few who decided to practice being more attentive to things around me that might inspire my poetry and prose.
My choice might have been an easy ”out” for me—as I tend to do this type of noticing naturally—but this time I decided to be more specific. After a tough year of trying to finish my MFA (while my dad was sick and then passed, and all the grief and darkness I felt), I chose a task that might bring in more lightness to my life. I decided to look to nature and see what humor or whimsy I could find. To see in God’s creation, and its overlap with our human world, what little things brought a smile or a giggle out of me. I just knew there must be some sense-of-humor and play in God’s world around me each day. I just need to look for it, to be open to seeing it.
As part of our task (an accountability), we picked a partner to text with and check in on during the month. My partner and I decided to text each other a few times each week; something we found in our environment…either a photo or a description. She decided to try to find interesting things that caught her by surprise in her urban home of New York City. She admitted that she often walked with tunnel-vision focus through the streets, trying to ignore the bustle and business around her, and she often missed things that might bring her joy or amusement. I told her I would send photos of things that surprised me in nature or its collision with the manmade.
My first photo was sent after a few days of looking, trying to find “just the right thing”. Then I realized that by being picky, I was actually not staying open to possibilities. There was no perfect way to look at God’s world and there was no need to find the ultimate thing. That’s when I observed a bumble bee on a flower, busying itself and bouncing around. Yes, of course I’ve seen a bee on a flower many times in my life, but then I realized where I was: in the state of Washington visiting family. So this was no ordinary bee on a flower…this was a “bumble bee bouncing in Bellingham”. God’s creation, my alliteration. Boom. Big smile! So I took the photo and sent it to my accountability partner, who then sent back a text that said “pile of porcelain plates” from New York. Hmmm, interesting. I wondered what this image made her feel.
Wow, this was fun.
Now, my eyes were opened, and I was actively looking and receiving all the fun and funny things God was showing me all around. My serious, post-graduate “what do I do now” life without my parents, the bittersweetness of my advanced accomplishments put aside for the humor and whimsy in God’s world around me. That is when I saw the cool clashes of color, the twisted shapes of leaves, the splashes of silly fish playing in tide pools, the way roots of big trees pushed up the concrete that bound them…the metaphorical meanings there.
And then, I saw the pinwheels.
I saw pinwheels that someone had put in a small slice of lawn between the curb and sidewalk by their home. But it wasn’t the pinwheels themselves, or the fact that it was a cute decoration that someone chose to brighten the days of passersby. It was the fact that the wind didn’t blow all of them evenly, at the same time. The breeze was sneaking around each one and spinning it at random, sometimes 3, or maybe two, or even just one. It was like a finger reached over and pushed the plastic curves to circle on its stake. The wind was playing with the pinwheels. The wind God made, was playing. It felt like an intimate moment, a connection with God that I hadn’t felt before.
Now, I am back home, in Minneapolis, awaiting more moments like this, keeping my eyes and ears open for more surprises to bring joy to my life. I have another few weeks to stay accountable to my partner, but I have an idea that this may be the beginning of a blessing in my life. Hopefully a new way to look at God’s creation and our world in it.
Will you join me?
Will you look for the bouncing bumble bees and the spinning pinwheels around you, will you allow them to remind you of the joy to be found in our world (in those little things we often miss or take for granted)? The things that maybe used to bring joy to us as children, that we used to notice before we became too busy and preoccupied with adulting and responsibility, or too burdened with worry, stress and grief. My prayer for you, my friends, is that you might begin to take notice and see the beauty and the joy (even the whimsy) around you as a reminder of God’s constant presence in your life. Be open for the blessed surprise to make you smile. Amen.
Amen
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