Riding my bike this morning after the sun was already above the horizon (a nice change after a few days of riding in pre-dawn darkness) I started adding to the list I started but might not finish.
Today’s list may not all make it into this posting for reasons which include a less than perfect memory and I’m okay with that since it’s not really about a list but about a new way of seeing. This list helps me to remember for a day when my eyes are blurry and can’t perceive things for the list.
13. Sun in my eyes. Having more often ridden in the darkness by street light, it was deliciously good to have the sun bringing clarifying brightness to all I saw — especially when it was also early and cool enough for the sun’s heat to feel life-giving instead of life-draining.
14. Black crow on top of the electric pole. The stark contrast against the light blueness of sky and a memory of a poem came together in a moment.
15. Moss hanging from Live Oak trees — which are not the opposite of dead oak trees, but rather a kind of tree.
16. Cardinal red.
17. Sun through smokey-foggy conservation area – striped and dancing with gentle breeze.
18. Long needles on lopsided pine trees stretching toward sky and out of the jumbled mucky undergrowth. I want to be more like this — to worry less about my awkward stance or common offering of just another pine cone — and push toward sky and light and God.
19. Coasting down hill, wind in my face.
20. Upside down reflection of upside down world in smooth-surfaced pond.
21. The Florida “stink” of vegetation rotting in still waters giving life back to sandy soil and coaxing new growth.
22. Mockingbird song. Tree after tree after tree. The northern mockingbird is the Florida state bird, with her 200 songs and cheery disposition.
23. Crepe Myrtle blooms which I know and love as they are in deep pinks and whites and violet hues — but more because certain colors remind me of the lilac. Memory strong enough that I can almost smell the glory of what is, perhaps, my favorite flowering bush.
24. People walking dogs. Dogs walking people.
25. The running woman. I know the one. I see her often — always running. Seeing her was a painful gift this morning. She is, I believe (though I do not know), anorexic. The knots of her joints are larger than her fleshy-parts, her back is curved and shoulders hunched. Her face drawn.
And how is this a gift? A reminder gift when I’m feeling the de-motivational pull of being “not as disciplined” as I want to be with food and exercise — when I start to convince myself to give up and just “be” or to beg for rigid discipline to be all-together other. I am reminded that there really is too much of a good thing when my focus is off and that I don’t want that either. And God’s grace is enough for her torment and mine every day. Every day. And I pray that she will know that grace as I have known time and again.