*PHOTOS BY HAMLIN GRANGE*
Before the car accident, I was busy leading the big projects, travelling here and there. Running around trying to change the world can make a person miss the beauty of “ordinary” things.
Injuries and pain are indescribably worse. You finally have time to see, but barely have the energy to look.
But – oh – it’s worth the effort!
To see one’s surroundings with new and grateful eyes.
To take joy in the small moments.
To be open to small patches of everyday glory.
Snow on evergreens. The first snow makes the garden beautiful, day and night.
The late sun. Late afternoon sunlight shining on wood floors is magical. And when the late sun hits the wavy glass sidelights in the front door of our old farmhouse, it’s wondrous.
My husband’s truant socks. He has tons of single socks and we spend time searching for their matches.I used to get irritated by this. Or by newspapers strewn across the breakfast table. (Or his overlooking my small attempts to ‘cheer up’ our house.)
Now, I call them “signs of life”. And I give thanks for having someone kind, funny and loving to share my everyday life with. (And I try to assemble the newspapers without muttering.)
Freshly washed sheets. There’s luxury in the smell and feel of freshly washed cotton sheets although they’ve been used and washed many times.
The old wool blanket. “Canadiana”, for sure, it would be worth something, unstained. Do I care about the stain? No. I love this blanket for its brilliant stripes – and for having survived decades of use.
Blooming Amaryllis. Bought for 6 bucks, it re-blooms (big red blooms) on long stalks each winter. ‘Nuff said.
Our family’s big mixing bowl. Many apple pies have been mixed up in that beautiful old bowl.
My daughter’s dogs. Sometimes, just the sight of them gladdens my heart. One brownish-black, one white, they’re both tiny dogs with personalities of their own. As I write, they’re stretched out beside me, fast asleep.
Slowing down by choice is great. Being forced to do so is awful.
But in the spirit of lighting a candle and finding my way out of darkness, I’ve been focusing on positives.
And keeping both eyes open for the everyday kind of glory.
This post is dedicated to the caring staff at the pain management centre of Toronto Rehabilitation Hospital. One of the techniques they teach their patients is mindfulness.
33 thoughts on “EVERYDAY GLORY – Part 2”
As the saying goes…Stop and smell the roses. There are small joys all around us. I find them everyday in nature and in my garden.
I hope you can bring your glory with you in Dec. to the celebrations in Grafton.
You’ve adopted the right spirit, Cynthia. Yes, each day has its own beauty for us to enjoy … and we do need breathing space. Your garden is lovely. Take care. 🙂
Thank you, Iris.
I think I finally reached the point where the pain and misery were killing me. I had to learn to count my blessings and find a bit of humour in my own tragedy.
Thank you for this beautiful post. Poignant reminders for us all.
You are most welcome. I’m glad you like it.
I’m sorry that you have health challenges Cynthia, and yet I see an incredible light and wisdom that has emerged. To see the beauty in our ordinary lives is a precious gift.
Prayers for continued healing and finding everyday glories!
Thank you, Brad. Very much. Hope you’re doing well.
Cynthia, The messages in your words never grow old. They inspire self-reflection and gratitude for the “little things”! Thank you for these important reminders in our busy world filled with challenges. I hope the cold weather is not being too “unkind” to you both.
Thanks, Lee. It has suddenly become unbelievably cold. But still so much to be grateful for. Here’s one: dark comes much earlier now, but with the ground covered with snow, there’s suddenly more light.
I love the light shining in through the window and across that lovely wooden floor, Cynthia. It’s so healthy for the spirit to appreciate the little things. I start in the morning when I get out of bed and walk to the kitchen – having MS means that one day I may no longer be able to enjoy the first simple steps of my day xxxx
I’m moved by your response, Dianne. While I’m trying to crawl out of a dark time, you live with the possibility that one day you may no longer be able to enjoy those first steps of the day. That takes courage and strength.
My best to you.
p.s. Glad you like the sunshine pouring through the sidelight of our old door. It’s that old wavy glass from maybe a hundred years ago, or more.
This mindfulness is so important, so necessary for us all to practise. When I find my life closing in around me and I start to think that I might not be able to manage, I realise that I am feeling like this because I have forgotten to LOOK and SEE and be THANKFUL. This post is so lovely and hopeful that it has brought tears to my eyes. Hamlyn’s pictures are wonderful too, as they always are. Thank-you so much, dear Cynthia!
Thank you, Clare.
Sometimes it’s easy to forget, especially when one is dealing with a multitude of issues all at once. We are, after all, only human.
I’m glad you liked this post.
Yes, I really liked this post and what I really loved about it was the fact that you wrote so joyfully about all your pleasures despite the terrible pain you are in most of the time. You wrote so honestly and amusingly despite the great anxiety you are under.
It’s hard to learn to live with chronic debilitating pain but it can be done and we can even rise above it and refuse to let it take over our lives, just as you have shown. I hope others living in pain will read this.
Thank you, Allen.
It’s a struggle, every day, but I know what it’s like to let the darkness take over, and it’s awful. Chronic pain is a horrible thing and I’ll likely be fighting it (and sleeplessness and depression) every day for the rest of my life.
Strangely enough, the therapies that I practice through this blog are a) comedic writing — finding something funny to laugh about and b) being mindful of blessings – the big ones and the small, everyday “patches of glory”.
Wonderful post, my Dear. Very uplifting!!!! 🙂
Thank you, Levi.
Beautiful post Cynthia, it is positive and agreed with Levi, it is uplifting. Best wishes.. 🙂
Thank you. Glad you enjoyed it.
awwww…this is a beautiful post! This is the “get it” I am talking about—-for it is easy to get caught up in the world again….”You finally have time to see, but barely have the energy to look”…that is my goal to be in THIS frame of mind till I leave this world—but easier said than done-thank you for reminding me today!
I think we just have to keep reminding each other every so often. Glad you liked this post.
you are sooooo right for it is too easy to stray:-)
You’re right, being forced to slow down is awful. It can also be a blessing as brought out so beautifully by your last two posts, Cynthia. I love the story of the pillows. I’ve been there. Men–gotta love em, but they have no regards for our efforts at prettying things up. 😀
Just keep encouraging me to look, okay?
That’s one thing reading other bloggers like you does for me: it keeps reminding me to stop and notice the good stuff.
I love the humble reverence and joy that comes through in this post. And that sunshine through the window–gorgeous! As well as the snow on the pine tree. Your thoughts remind me of something much less severe in nature but along the same train of thought. After sickness, being thankful for no aches, a calm stomach, the ability to breathe properly. We take so much for granted.
Indeed, mindfulness is a much better thing when we develop it in wellness rather than as a result of injury or pain. But it is better to have become more aware in any state than never at all. The photos are lovely as are the sentiments.
So right, Jeanne. It is also much more difficult to develop the practice of mindfulness when pain is kicking one’s butt.
And isn’t that the truth! Pain has a way of knocking so many things out of the picture.
Hi Cynthia, what a journey you are on. I had not realised. It is nice to be reminded to see everything around me, and to not be bothered about “the little things”. Thank you. Xx Dana