Lingering with January

 

January Mornings - My favourite kinds of mornings: cold, clear, crisp. All the chilly words and gorgeous wintry sky. The kinds of mornings that welcome another cup of coffee, and little bit of lingering with a moment, and some thoughtful meanderings in the mind. 

Whether it's a book of prayers, Scripture, or a book of poems, I have been seeking to linger lately. Our world flies at a pace that doesn't encourage mindfulness or lingering, and I feel like I am constantly struggling against it. Often I have to step back and say no, I can't take part, I need some time at home, I just need some quiet time. It can be confused by some as my not being interested or even anti-social, but that's really not true. Yes, I am hugely introverted, so in order for me to recharge, I need time alone. But that doesn't mean I don't want to spend time with others or be part of outings, long talks, and adventures. I have fought this assumption endlessly, and now instead of fighting it, and I set out on a course of study inviting a different track of indulging curiosity.

We are all guilty of assuming about others the things we think from our own perspective. Something I have learned in my older (hopefully wiser) years is this - while I can easily see that most people don't think like me, I must also be filled with grace toward others, because I don't think like them. They may have something so interesting or wise for me to listen to and learn from. Realizing this in a thoughtful manner has helped me grow in curiosity toward others. Someone else is likely thinking about something I never have thought of. To me, that's the beauty of the uniqueness of how God has made each of us.

Your preference for a morning is likely very different from mine. Maybe you sleep late. Or prefer warm, sultry mornings. Tell me about why that is for you, because maybe I can learn from it, or think about something I had not considered. We all get caught up in our own heads sometimes, and it's refreshing to gain perceptive that differs, even if we don't agree. We can still appreciate the perspective and notice how our own view is shaped.

I could linger for hours with a book and coffee or tea (maybe needing a refill after that long). I don't get antsy; I like to be focused and attentive to what I am doing. I love to go deep into a book, deep into thoughts, deep into some meditative quiet time, and deep into meandering conversation with others. But that's not for everyone. I will take a break and go for a walk or do some errand/chore, which is a small amount of time. Someone else might be the exact opposite of me, more time out and about, with a little bit of time with a book or quiet space. It's interesting to learn why that works for each of us as we are all made beautifully differently.

Elusive Agatha

 

If someone were to write a biography of you, would the author describe you as elusive? The title of the new biography of Agatha Christie includes the addition - "an elusive woman" because of something that was said of her at one point. It kind of got me thinking about what being elusive would mean.  

Perhaps Agatha was known to be elusive because she practiced in life what became known as a classic "Christie trick" she used in many of her mystery novels - is the hiding of an object in plain sight. 

Or maybe we could say she was elusive about her mysterious disappearance for 11 days, showing up at a hotel in Harrogate with "loss of memory". Newspapers were writing stories about her, search parties (including Dorothy L. Sayers and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle) were scouring the countryside for her. Her car was found in a ditch. She was found using a false name staying at a hotel. Was there something more there? Lucy Worsley does a good account of piecing together the story, sensitive to the fact that it could have been a nervous breakdown. Her husband had been seeing someone else and had told her he wanted a divorce. Would that not cause some deep despair? Indeed. 

Agatha had an interesting life and engaged with it in her cheerful countenance. There is something about her that is magnetizing - she really seemed to enjoy life. She liked to try new things, she liked driving, she surfed in Hawaii, she loved to travel to places like Egypt, Bagdad, and the ancient city of Ur. She met her second husband, Max, on such trips and kept going back to the deserts. Many of her novels were written from a tiny desk in the sandy deserts where her husband was an archaeologist. Her real experience on The Orient Express provided her the details and nuances of that exact train journey so her murder mystery novel was accurate in all the details she could possibly maintain.

Perhaps an elusive side of Agatha was her faith. It's hinted at here and there, but it appears that she quietly leaned on her Christian faith to get through difficult times she did have to endure:

Agatha's autobiography implies that what brought her back from the brink was the remembered voice of a woman. A teacher once told her the essence of Christianity was the defeat of despair.

"Those few words," Agatha wrote, "remained with me...they were to come back to me and give me hope at a time when despair had me in its grip." 

Above all, Agatha was an author who was always thinking of her next book, though she would put "married woman" as her profession on her passport. It is clear she was meant to be a writer. She knew that writing was a great joy and she never stopped writing until she passed away January 12, 1976 (47 years ago, age 86). Her view of writing was that "...sometimes I think that is the moment one feels nearest to God, because you have been allowed to feel a little of the joy of pure creation." I wholly agree, Agatha. 

Simplicity!

 

Simplicity, simplicity, simplicity! I say, let your affairs be as two or three, and not a hundred or a thousand; instead of a million count half a dozen, and keep your accounts on your thumb-nail....Hardly a man takes a half-hour's nap after dinner, but when he wakes he holds us his head and asks, "What's the news?" as if the rest of mankind had stood his sentinels.

-  Walden, Henry David Thoreau

It was a smooth blue sky day. The kind of chilly start to make you reach for a thick sweater, but that warms by noon in the sun, but not too warm. When the sun starts settling back into its warm and soft bed, the air cools down so quickly I grab a sweater. I smile. I grab my book and settle with a blanket. I love when these days come along.

January is the best month of the year, but it can often be very hectic with newness, change, transition, projects, all the things a new year might provoke. These aren't inherently bad, but add them up it's a weight. With a new year comes all the possibilities.

Simplicity, simplicity, simplicity! Thoreau provokes the ideas of getting out of the world in his memoir Walden. He was rather fed up with the world and all it's profit driven consumerism, and he decided to build a small cabin out by Walden Pond near Concord Massachusetts, and he stayed there for two years living the most simple life he could, to be more intentional and aware. It was an experiment he wanted to engage with and ponder over. That's how the book came into fruition.

Simplicity might look different to everyone. We can't all build a cabin in the woods and escape our everyday responsibilities, however the point is not that we should all follow his path but learn from it. We can all incorporate things that do ease our lives of clutter that only burdens.

I love the old reference to keeping accounts on your thumb-nail (he means it literally) and yet what would first come to mind for us and a thumbnail? Our computers, right? However the idea still translates to modern culture. A thumbnail is a small icon on your computer, and he is saying your schedule, promises, commitments, whatever should fit in a small space. Not fill up something larger than a finger nail.

In the margin of the book, next to the line about waking from a nap and needing to ask right away "what's the news?", I wrote - today this is social media. We wake up right away and check social media, emails, texts, news, etc. We always need to know the news, which is something that hinders us from leading a simple life. It clutters our minds with other "stuff" we don't need before we can even think for ourselves. The websites all try to get us online as much as possible - it's to connect us more, but I would argue that it disconnects us from ourselves and what matters. It's become so much the norm we don't even notice how things of genuine importance slip through our fingers.

Maybe we don't want simple. Maybe we like getting caught up in all of it, but I daresay if we tried to live for a short time (even a day, could we say a Sabbath?) living so simply (maybe without TV, phones, computer, appointments, errands, etc) we might find ourselves drawn to it as a source of refreshment and nourishment to our souls. Set some boundaries with how simple you'd like to be, and give it a go. I dare myself, and I dare you.

Reflections from a Coffee Shop

 

Reflections. 

Turning the calendar to a new year.

I take myself to my local coffee shop on a grey and humid last day of the year. Other than home, my favourite place to reflect, write, read, and think is a coffee shop. There's a general buzz and atmosphere in a coffee shop that delights my mind to think and expand.

Flipping to a fresh page in my journal I write four pages without pausing for more than a moment. The cup and saucer holding a peppermint latte is placed on my table and I thank the barista and enjoy little sips between pages.

Thankfulness arises, a hearty dose of it. Amidst any struggle or trial in the year, a path is always set before me to follow in the light and life of Christ, or go elsewhere into darkness and despair. My own life has had deep struggles enter in. The world around us has held a heavy dose of grim, but we can always choose to enter into the light of Christ. Our hope, the source of joy, and the forever we can hold close now.

As always, I turn to poetry to help articulate the thought. Lately, Emily Dickinson has been my go-to poet. I have a thick, heavy book collecting all her poems, which comprises 636 pages of her quippy short verses that always leave me with a contemplative mindset. This chunky book has been a permanent fixture on my dining table and desk, as it's so easy to flip open at random and read a poem. Her trademark dashes and capitalization is another features of her poems that causes me to pause and ponder. A unique talent so enjoyable to read and discover. 

Forever – is composed of Nows –
‘Tis not a different time –
Except for Infiniteness –
And Latitude of Home –

From this – experienced Here –
Remove the Dates – to These –
Let Months dissolve in further Months –
And Years – exhale in Years –

Without Debate – or Pause –
Or Celebrated Days –
No different Our Years would be
From Anno Dominies –

- Emily Dickinson

Happy New Year - may 2023 hold the forever in the close now.