Reading

 Ah, books, my oldest most constant companions...how I've missed you...The great thing about books is that they are so constant. For as long as I can remember being able to read, books have been my friends. Obviously this exposes just how introverted (anti-social?) I am. But books don't make me feel bad or less than or unloved. Books are always available and never ignore me. Books make me feel warm and fuzzy and comforted: their words, their creamy pages, the way they feel in my hands, the familiar characters who are like old friends.

I had kind of forgotten what it feels like to curl up with a good book. Since my dad died, I have not read a single work of fiction. I've tried, but even engaging books have sat waiting to be finished. This has never happened to me before since I have always been an avid reader. I can't explain it, but it seems it may have been part of my grieving. But yesterday, I picked up a novel by one of my favourite authors. I had started it months ago and then it had sat collecting dust. I actually had to start again at the beginning since I couldn't remember what I'd read. But I'm more than halfway and I am loving it. Escaping into the world of my favourite detective was exactly what I needed this week. Now if I can just make myself go to bed on time instead of staying up all night to finish....

Are you feeding your soul?

Are there things you do to escape that feed your soul? Things big or small that fill you up? I don't mean things like watch tv or scroll social media which I think numb your soul, and increase your anxiety. But things that bring a smile to your face and make you feel warm and fuzzy. Things that allow you to forget your troubles and temporarily feel hopeful that the world is a lovely place. I have been very intentional in trying to find these moments every day. Yes, I still feel depressed or anxious or even angry sometimes, but I also have moments every day where I feel happy and filled up.

Yesterday I spent time with my friend. As we sat on the restaurant patio sharing pasta with the sun streaming onto our table, I couldn't help but pause to savour the moment. I actually find myself doing that a lot with this particular friend, both the eating and the savouring. We were sharing a steaming plate of four kinds of pasta. It was a random Monday afternoon and we had just finished a lengthy walk. We had nowhere to be for hours. Our time together is never rushed and that makes it precious, and rare. We linger as long as we'd like, whether it's over lunch, or coffee or out for a walk. There is something restful about slowing down and taking our time and I think it is partly this sense of taking pleasure in the moment that makes our times together so beautiful. It reminds me of the Latin saying festina lente, or make haste slowly. You can interpret that in many ways, but I take it to mean that even though you do have limited amounts of time, to enjoy those moments slowly.

After lunch, we bought coffee and walked down to the beach. The water was sparkling with sunlight. There were lazy boats in the water and some guy practicing hand gliding on the grass. It was quiet except the occasional chatter of people, and a few birds. It was wonderful. Watching/listening to the water always feeds my soul and is the best. But sitting on a bench with my closest friend and staring out at the water is better. 

Just to be clear, we were still in the midst of a pandemic, restaurants were still closed to indoor dining, we still had to wear masks to order our coffee...there were lots of negatives. But that's not what I chose to focus on. Instead my soul was filled up with sunshine, walking, food, conversation, laughter, the beauty of spring, coffee, the beach and my friend. My cup runneth over.

Beauty

Why do we gravitate toward the beautiful? What is it that touches our soul when we see a stunning sunset or a newborn baby or a cherry tree in all its pink splendour? I have been thinking about this a lot and I don't think it's just the superficiality of something that pleases the eye. Yes, that's part of it, but I think the answer lies much deeper than that. 

Have you ever met someone who you thought was beautiful but as you got to know them, their beauty somehow faded in your eyes? Conversely have you ever met someone seemingly ordinary, but as you got to know them, they become more and more beautiful? You suddenly notice the twinkle in their eyes, or how pretty they look when they smile, or how their laugh warms your heart? I think this is because beauty is tied to truth and goodness. Finding someone to be true and good makes them start to glow with beauty. Finding someone to be deceitful and wicked changes your perception of how they look and they become ugly right before your very eyes. 

The ultimate source of everything good, true and beautiful is God. Although we can't exactly look at Him, we can look at His creation. There is something about the beauty of creation that inexplicably draws us into awe and wonder, which lead us to go beyond ourselves and beyond that particular moment in time. We catch glimpses of what life would be like if the world was not so full of sin and evil and pollution and corruption and we yearn for things to be better. This yearning is more than just wishful thinking for an earthly utopia; I think it's actually a deep desire for communion with God and the paradise that He originally created for us. 

But we aren't in paradise anymore and until we reach heaven, beauty is only fleeting. I went cherry blossom hunting with my friend the other day. We found some trees that were still budding, some that were in full bloom and some that had already faded and lost a lot of their flowers. The beauty of the flower reminds us that we are here today and gone tomorrow. We need to live in the moment, since that's all we have. But the impermanence of beauty also carries an element of sadness. We wish for lasting beauty, for eternal beauty. One day when we reach heaven, everything will in fact be beautiful and perfect and eternal. But until then, we wait and try to appreciate those fleeting moments of beauty that we do see.

In an increasingly dark and depressing world, however, looking for beauty and stopping to appreciate it is a kind of rebellion. It is defiantly choosing to reflect on what is good and lovely and true, not in a naive, Pollyanna-like way, but as an act of gratitude and appreciation. The Bible actually tells us, "whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable-if anything is excellent or praiseworthy-think about such things." (Phil 4:8). It can be a tall order, but I am reminded of the quote that "it is easy to be heavy; hard to be light." Focusing on what is still good and lovely is hard, but worth the effort. So, you will find me defiantly loving life and stopping to appreciate the beauty all around me.