WALKING IN THE FOG

I began my walk in silence this morning…save for the muffled barking of a dog…as overnight the clouds descended and cloaked the Earth in fog.

It’s on cool mornings such as this…with the fog muting all details…I’m reminded how the Earth is alive and breathing…as I walk through her exhales.

I love walking in an early morning fog…where all colors are stripped away…for the more I walk…the more I realize…there’s so much beauty in the gray.

Some people may find sadness in the mist…may see it more like smog…but I, for one, am blessed to find happiness in the fog. 

When the fog drifts down to visit…I feel a kind of inner peace…every sound is muted…all boundaries seem to cease.

I’ve learned to see the beauty in her obscurity…that without the fog I cannot see…the way she blends together with the rocks, the sky…the ocean…the flowers and the trees.

The fog reminds me how life is ephemeral when I’m surrounded by her at the break of day…for I know if I wait long enough…the fog will fade away.

And when she lifts her blanket…I know there’s no telling the wonders I might feel…from the sounds she will unveil…to the colors she’ll reveal.

I’ve been blessed to know the pleasure of playing in the sun…

of counting stars in the evening sky when the day is done…

of dancing in the rain…

of standing by a lake listening to the singing of the frogs…

And one of my most cherished blessings will always be…

walking in the fog.

 

SANTA'S IN THE HOUSE

It happens every year around this time…when I place upon my head…my old Christmas stocking cap…which happens to be red.

Some children passing by with their parents will look at me and pause…

“Mom! Dad! Look!” They’ll point.  “I think it’s Santa Claus.”

It happened in the bookstore the other day…

“Look! it’s Santa!” A young boy said, “That’s him behind the mask.”

After looking at me and smiling…

“What makes you think he’s Santa?” The father asked.

“Well…he has a white beard and he’s wearing a stocking cap so his head…it won’t get cold.  I smiled and waved until he came out with this zinger…

“Oh, and Santa’s old.”

Old!  He called me old! I felt my knees buckle and go weak…he didn’t mention jolly…and what about my rosy cheeks?

The father said, “He’s not the real Santa….but that was very perceptive of you.” 

I smiled, waved and said Merry Christmas…because that’s what old Santa’s do.

I had a chance to assess myself in the mirror as I closed the store for the night…white beard…red stocking cap…old…that little boy was right!

Still…I love days like this…when I get to hear the innocence of children speak…it is what makes me jolly…what puts the rosy in my cheeks.

I’ve been blessed to be called many names in my life…to wear a host of hats upon my top…son, brother, friend, husband, dad, teacher and PopPop.

Different people calling me different names that peacefully co-exist…

and for a few weeks around Christmas every year I’m blessed to add Santa to this list.

FROM BEHIND THE COUNTER

 

I know there is evil and ugliness in this world…I’ve witnessed it since childhood…but that’s all the more reason as we go through life to look for the beauty and the good.

I have to believe when this world was created….with love and to love was they way the creators designed it…and behind the counter of a bookstore…there’s no better place to find it.

Behind the counter of a bookstore…I see love in all its forms…which strengthens my resolve and hope that we can weather evil’s storms.

Behind the counter of a bookstore I’m privileged to see love with my two old tired eyes…I see it in the rainbow of people who enter…every sex, shape, color…and size.

I see it in young families…a love both innocent and grand…I see it in the parent’s and their children’s eyes as they search for books while holding hands.

I see it in older families too…in adult children and their parent’s smiles…and it’s nice to know that holding hands will never go out of style.

I see it in strangers meeting momentarily…becoming friends…as strangers often do

while talking about their books…while sharing a story or two.

And I see it in people holding the door for other people whom I’m pretty sure they’ve never met…sharing a tiny form of love I hope neither will forget.

For is that not the best way to defeat evil…to make sure its finally gone…by taking any love we receive and, with kindness,…passing it on?

From my vantage point behind the counter…

watching people come and go…

Love is perhaps the reason I love the bookstore so…

Because when we’re open…from behind the counter…

I can feel the love that’s floating in the air

and when we’re closed and the store is empty…

I can feel the echoes of the love residing there.

NATIONAL COOKIE DAY

 

Today is National cookie day…a day to celebrate that delicious, mouthwatering treat…but as we bite into that cookie…let’s not forget the cookie sheet.

While we’re enjoying the aroma of all those cookies someone’s making…let’s not forget all the time and energy and things it took to get those cookies baking.

Think about it for a moment…as you approach that cookie…before you dip into the jar and take it…where would that cookie be without a sheet upon which to bake it?

And while we’re on the subject…before that cookie ends up on our hips…what about the flour, the sugar, the eggs, the vanilla…and all those chocolate chips?

Certainly today, of all days, it makes perfect sense…if we’re going to celebrate the cookie…we must celebrate its ingredients.

And then there is the mixer, the measuring cups, measuring spoons…the spatula…for we would all be fools…if we celebrated the cookie…without remembering these tools.

And then there is the person whose hands combine the ingredients and place the dough upon the sheet….then watches the cookies closely…as he or she monitors the heat.

The person who cools the cookies before putting them into the jar…the person who has lovingly watched and helped those cookies come so far.

That same person who makes those cookies with love for me and you…then sticks around to clean up when all the baking’s through.

So when you pick up that cookie today…when you bring it to your lips and that first bite your’e about to take it…celebrate all the time and energy and love it took someone to bake it.

I suppose in a way we’re a lot like that cookie…as we walk the path fate and destiny are taking us…we are a mix of ingredients…molded by love…and all the hands that have gone into making us.

So while we celebrate the cookie today…as we sneak another from the cookie jar…let us also celebrate all the time and energy and love…it takes to make us who we are.

WITH MY GLASSES OFF

 

I was born with poor eyesight so for me it has been fated…with my naked eye I will never see the world the way it was created.

Everything I see without my glasses is fuzzy and obscure…but sometimes I like to walk without them…and experience the blur.

I imagine there are some people who think this is absurd…but here is why I like to walk around in a world where everything is blurred:

With my glasses on when I see the clouds…I know their shapes…as much as my knowledge has allowed…with my glasses off when I look up…all I see are clouds

With my glasses on…the differences in every tree I see…with my glasses off…when I look…all I see is tree.

With my glasses on in a field of flowers I see how each flower varies from stem to stem…with my glasses off I can only see how beautifully the colors blend.

With my glasses on when I look at people…so many differences in them I see…with my glasses off all I see is how everyone looks like me.

I use to think with my poor eyesight…

I was star-crossed…

unlucky…

ill-fated…

Now I wonder if I wasn’t given a gift..

to see the world as it was meant to be created.

MORE THAN JUST A CUP

 

One of his fondest memories of his dad as he was growing up was how at every meal he’d drink from the same cup.

It was little, red and made of metal…the only one of its kind in the house he ever saw…which, over the years, he noticed developed a chip…on its brim…a little flaw.

One day he asked his dad, “Why not get a new cup…Why use that old one with a chip around the brim?”  His dad set the cup down…then smiled as he looked up at him.

“I know this may sound strange…but this cup is a comfort to me…the more I’ve used it over the years the more it seems part of my family.”

“I drank from this cup when I was finding the courage to ask your mom to marry me…and I was blessed…to drink wine from this cup with her…the moment she said yes.”

“I drank from this cup when we found out your mom was pregnant with you…and again in the early morn…the day I witnessed a miracle…the day when you were born.”

“This cup has seen me through good times and bad.” He said as with two hands he picked it up…”and somewhere along the way it became more than just a cup.”

“With its chips and flaws you wonder why I keep drinking from it…because it’s easy for me to see…how this old cup with its chips and flaws…is a little bit like me.”

“This might not make much sense to you now…how one old chipped cup can give me such a thrill…but one day when you’re older I imagine that it will.”

And one day, long after his dad passed…his son, now growing up, asked him why he always drank from that old, red metal cup.

He smiled and with two hands he lovingly picked it up…

“Let me tell you a story, son…

the story of this cup.”

THE OLD MAN'S RITUAL

It is a ritual the old man has observed since he was a little boy…

a ritual that fills his heart with love and fills his mind with joy…

Every morning…the moment he rises from his bed…as he thinks about his yesterday…and about today…what lies ahead.

He turns to the east and prays for the respect that will help him to behave…then he turns to the north and prays for the courage and strength it will take to be brave.

Next he turns to the west and prays for wisdom and truth…then to the south for kindness and honesty…then he turns his gaze to the Earth and prays for humility.

Next he pauses for a moment before turning to the sky above

and to whomever is up there listening…he begins to pray for love.

For he knows if even one direction of his prayers is answered…

when he walks out his front door…

he will be a better person 

than he was the day before.