Back on track with the first early morning walk through the hood in months, I am filled with gratitude and hope and sense of purpose. Very cool, and not to be taken for granted, this feeling.
A few blocks from my house there is a huge expanse of Rosemary banking a front yard, and in a sidewalk conversation, the woman who lives there had issued a standing invitation to partake. So, I broke off several big branches with bright purple blossoms, now gracing my living room with its fragrance and freshness, arranged in the cut glass vase given several Christmases ago by daughter two. And now, I’m thinking of a lovely woman named Rosemary, who I am so glad I got to know, who died a couple weeks ago.
And when I saw a pink dressing table cast to the curb, I thought of my sis in CA, wondering if she would have carried it back to her house. She has great talent for renovating such stuff. Even with its missing drawer and shadowy mirror, she could transform it into an artistically funky piece of furniture.
‘Twas chilly enough for gloves and headband and winter jacket, yet the ground under tulip trees is littered with their lavender flowers, an atypical sight for February. With the warm weather we’ve been having, daffodils and tulips are in full bloom and all manner of green sprouts are pushing through the dirt at least a month early. What in the world?
A smile exchanged with a commuter at a stop sign and friendly greeting with a dog walker I see at community meetings was pleasant for my soul.
“i thank You God for most this amazing day,” beginning in stark contrast to the one before. Yesterday I awoke with “damnable ennui “(see poem below), claustrophobia of the soul, acedia. The good and Holy Spirit interceded with weapons and the strength to use them. Physical activity, delicious food, communicating with friends, space and time for listening in prayer and meditation turned things around.
I wish for each of you, my friends, a day filled with that which you need.
“Let’s go!” the body says.
“Time’s a-wastin’ and if we hasten,
we can change the world a bit.”
But heartless energy only sputters
like a willing motor with loose connections.
“Rest for awhile,” comes the spirit’s hopeful whisper,
but “No!” says flesh.
“Forget duty and logistics
and indulge in long postponed pleasure,” the spirit weakly exhorts.
Even this temptation dies away
into a blue dream sky whose beauty
seems too distant to behold.
Damnable ennui sets in and, unabated,
holds body and soul alike
in a vice of nervous idleness.
Finally, nightfall gives cover for the fleshly defeat,
and unwilling spirit sleeps, too,
with dreams of no more tortured days.
Copyright © 2010 Cristy C. Fossum. Create in Me Enterprises, 1215 Beaufort St.,
Columbia, South Carolina 29201. May not be reproduced or transmitted in any form
whatsoever without prior written permission from the publisher except in the case of brief
quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.