Thursday, October 12, 2006

three small things

I am having somewhat of a difficult week. But I am thankful enough to know that even my darkest week is still so very bright, and in that space of knowing, i've tried to keep a grateful heart. And i am almost there. Weary, but almost there.

And then i pondered - if i was able to manifest three small things today, things that are small yet big only as they are not so feasible as distance and space and time permits - then what would they be?

I'd drink an ice cold dos equis on the beach in baja, take M to scout out some bugs and roll around on the grass at our favorite baylands spot, and then later, stop over at N's place to watch the sun slip under the earth with a couple of bottles of deep red wine.

And in that, my thoughts turned to you.

So you, you lovely writers of strong and powerful words, if you could choose one small and unexpected morsel of grace today, what would it be?

20 comments:

acumamakiki said...

As I listen to my daughter wailing with angst upstairs, a litany of grievances (my husband is the catcher of this grief) I'm grateful that I've got bookclub in less than an hour. Wine and cheese with smart women (and the author is supposed to be there as well!) and my child in bed for the night.

penelopeto said...

my baby is sleeping, her daddy is at tai chi, and there is noone here to bug me while i watch the hockey game and eat salty snacks! how's that for eloquent?!

Momish said...

I would have a 95 cents breakfast at la cucina de agular (with green chili and papitas), take a long, slow drive to the Jemez mountains, then soak in the hotsprings while the sunset (you did say we can go globetrotting, right?) Oh, how I miss New Mexico!

you da mom! said...

i love hotels. i love the coffee in the lobby and watching HBO in my room. so, i guess my choice is: anywhere in a hotel; buffet breakfast; shopping!

scribbit said...

Thunder and lightning (we rarely get it but it's so fun), a ten-minute nap, and a call from Andrew (he's on business in New Orleans)

crazymumma said...

I would take a slow morning in the summer, snuggled in bed with my girls, looking at books and drinking coffee as we planned our daily outing....heaven comes in small spoonfuls.

Sweet post.

Deb said...

So sweet, thanks for the minivacation contemplation!

A hammock in the shade of an otherwise sunny beach, with warm blue water that is safe for my kidlets to be splashing in nearby as I drink something cool and refreshing, swaying in a soft breeze, snuggled up with my honey as he reads something fabulous and profound to me.

Her Bad Mother said...

A hot, dark, rich cup of coffee - espresso, with steamed milk on the side, and lots of sugar - and a flaky croissant. Taken outside, in the morning sunshine, with the newspaper, while my husband played with the baby.

Anonymous said...

I would eat a bowl of bun bo nam bo on Hang Dieu Street in Hanoi.

MaryP said...

Three days to myself. No work, no kids, no pets, no partner, just me and my laptop and a pile of good books, and a daily long walk by the canal to my favourite coffee shop. Solitude.

mad_hatter said...

A long bath with a good book and not a soul in the house but me. Oh and the knowledge that when I got out of the tub the house would be clean and tidy.

dogfaceboy said...

I am so selfish, Jen. I take my baths, drink my beer, drive a car for which I paid less than half, and own a camera that costs nearly as much as a year of private school education. And I'm stingy with my time, too, because I work three jobs. I covet my blog reading and writing. I relish my 3:00 beer.

I don't know that I deserve any of it.

I'm sorry you are having a bad week. My sleep was poor (been up since 4:15), and my back hurts. But I took good pictures today and wrote a poem yesterday and made a lot of money at my few hours of work. And as I sit here with a stomach ache and a sinus infection, I think of how good I have it.

The 3:00 beer is probably the only small thing I will need today.

ECR said...

A pedicure. Because my feet look like my mother's did when I was small. Even then I thought they were ugly.

meno said...

I would like to go out my front door in a warm tropical place and launch myself into the ocean and snorkel for a few hours, with the quiet noise underneath the waves filling my head.

Jenny said...

Can I invite people who aren't with us anymore? Because if so I'd say introducing my grandmother to her great-granddaughter.

PS. Speaking of grace, the comment you left on my Halloween post was so sweet. It really touched me. I hope things get brighter soon.

J Fife said...

A trail run on a carpet of bay leaves with my two mutts by my side. This will be reality in about twenty minutes...

Loralee Choate said...

I could have written this post.
I'm trying to stay upbeat, but this has been a gut-wrentching week for me, too!

I would only have one wish: To talk to someone I love and be reassured they are safe and well.

Lillithmother said...

First off Jen, I hope you can let the toughness of this week slip away as you look forward to tomorrow.

I love "wish" lists, so here goes...unfattening chocolate - lots of it, a hot July day...on a beach with my friends and family, a week with my honey, sans everyone and everything except for us, some food, wine...and a bed.

Nancy said...

I found a surprising moment of grace tonight, insomnia, which led to the inspiration for a blog post, and blog catch-up, and the chance for some much-needed solitary time in a quiet house.

Just hope I'm not too beat tomorrow after a night of interrupted sleep. ;-)

flutter said...

I would see myself as he sees me