Spontaneously Silly by Robin Livingston

I love lazy, hazy summer afternoons sitting out in the sunshine and soaking up the warmth. It’s too windy today for hot air balloons but on calm days we often see them sailing overhead, bright globes of colour against the backdrop of pale blue. There’s something majestic about their silent passage. It makes me smile.

Years ago we were sitting with friends on the back deck when we saw a hot air balloon that looked like it was going to pass directly over our yard. With one accord we all jumped up and ran out to the middle of the lawn to watch it coming. Yes indeed, it was going to go right over our heads and it was sailing low enough that we could see the people in the gondola beneath it.

We planned to wave a greeting when they got closer but my friend had a better idea. “I bet we could spell out the word ‘Hello’ using our bodies to form the letters on the grass,” she suggested with a laugh.

There was no debate. We all just looked at each other and said, “Let’s go for it!”

There were just enough of us with the kids included to do the job. It took a few minutes of giggling chaos to sort ourselves out and assume our positions but we managed it and just in time. We held our collective breath as the balloon passed, hoping that someone would look down and spot us where we lay giving new meaning to the term body language.

It was silly and undignified and thoroughly fun and it was my favourite memory of the summer. I still grin whenever I imagine what we must have looked like from above. Everyone needs a little spontaneous silliness in their lives now and then. Laughter is good for the soul. 

 

Image courtesy of creativedoxfoto/FreeDigitalPhotos.net

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Best Things in Life are Free

It was a holiday Monday and promised to be the warmest day of a chilly May long weekend. We looked at each other over breakfast and my husband asked that dreaded question.

“What are we going to do today?”

We looked at each other some more as we struggled to come up with a really great idea. I was beginning to think we might end up tackling the endless chore list for want of something better when I had a sudden inspiration.

“We could take our bikes and bring a picnic along,” I suggested.

It was decided. I started making sandwiches and Bev went to get our bikes out of the rafters in the garage. It would be our first ride of the season.

We wanted to see some new territory so we settled on biking the first part of the Caledon Trail which is a Rail Trail stretching from Terra Cotta all the way to Tottenham. We planned to get as far as Caledon East which would be a 19 kilometer ride one way.

By 9 am we were at the trail head in Terra Cotta, geared up and ready to begin.

 

Dappled sunlight dancing through the vibrant greens of newly sprouted leaves. The trail stretching empty before us.

 

 

The musical sound of water gurgling and splashing along tumbled streambeds competing with the chorus of birdsong overhead.

 

 

The chance to stop at the river crossing to watch the minnows dart in and out of the shadows under the bridge.

 

 

The forest floor carpeted with trilliums in all their glory.

 

 

Even the swamps are beautiful in the spring.

 

 

Wild strawberries blossoming all along the trail, the promise of sweetness to come.

 

Our destination reached in time to relax on a park bench and eat sandwiches that somehow tasted better than they would have if we’d eaten them at home. Chai Latte from the local coffee shop for dessert and it was time to begin the return journey.

 

More stops on the way back as we noticed things that we missed coming out. Ice cream at the General Store in Ingleside to celebrate the day. 

Finally, after 38 kilometers, we were back where we’d started, our strength depleted and our spirits filled. Not bad for our first try. We drove home in that warm and comfortable silence that is the fruit of years of easy companionship. When we pulled into the garage at last Bev turned to me with a smile on his face. 

 “This was a really good day.”  

Yes, yes it was.

Moments to Treasure / by Robin Livingston

I spent a few days this week looking after my 3 year old granddaughter and having adventures. Not all adventures are huge and breathtaking. There is plenty of excitement in the ordinary little things that fill our days when you see them through the wondering eyes of a child.  Spending time with Evaine brings out the inner child in me though I can’t quite match her boundless energy. I may be weary when I go home tomorrow but I will be richer by far than I was when I arrived.

 

Arms outstretched and a shout of welcome,

“Come play with me, Baba!”

Plastic cookies served with make believe tea and grave politeness

Towers of blocks carefully constructed and gleefully demolished

Shrieks of laughter as we chase a purple ball back and forth across the lawn

Heads bent together as we examine and count the leaves on a sprig of clover

Waving at our shadows as they stretch out in front of us in the morning sun

A wagon load of treasures discovered and examined along the way to the park

Rocks and pine cones and flowers and seeds, wondrous “stuff” to show Mommy and Daddy

Endless games of Hide and Seek and Follow the Leader

Marching and jumping and flapping our arms as we try to fly like the geese overhead

Absolute trust and joyful abandon

 “Can I see? Can I come? Can I help? That was FUN!!”

Kisses that heal and giggles and hugs

The first fuzzy caterpillar seen this year

Warm snuggles and sleepy yawns as we say goodnight at the end of the day

 

It doesn’t get much better than that. I’ll carry the memories home in my pockets and take them out when I need reminding.  Every day is a gift.

Lessons from a Wild Carrot / Robin Livingston

Symbolism is a powerful thing. During a recent women’s retreat I was attending we were invited to participate in a walk along some beautiful nature trails. Our goal was a spot in the woods where several sculptures depicting Jesus’ death on the cross were set up for those pilgrims wishing to pray and meditate.

It was suggested that during our walk we try to find something in nature to represent whatever it was that we would like to leave at the foot of that cross. I had done a similar exercise once before where we carried a stone representing our burdens and set it down at the foot of a cross before walking away. I’d found it to be a profoundly moving experience so I was eager to participate.

 

I had no idea what I was looking for, but what caught my eye was a cluster of seeds from a plant called Queen Anne’s Lace or more commonly, Wild Carrot. These were last year’s plants, and the stems of what was once a spray of delicate white flowers were all curved upward like the bars of a miniature birdcage enclosing the seeds within.

 It was perfect. Earlier that morning, I’d been wrestling with some pretty negative emotions. Anger and self pity are a snare that can cripple you even when you are convinced they are justified.  I knew that I had to lay them down or they would become the bars of a cage, trapping all my potential inside where there would be no opportunity for the seeds in me to produce the fruit that God intended.

 I thought about that as I walked along the trail with the brittle little cage of seeds nestled in my palm. When I set it down at the foot of the cross I felt lighter somehow…at peace and free. I’ll never look at Wild Carrot again without remembering.

Time Out

This weekend has been set aside for a special purpose and I’ve been looking forward to it all winter. Every year, for the past several years, the women in our church have been going on a weekend retreat where we can set aside all our cares and responsibilities and spend time with each other and with God. We’ll be heading to the beautiful Mount Alverno retreat centre in Caledon on Friday.

It’s spring…a time when the whole world, or at least the part of the world that has seasons, gets refreshed and renewed. I find that I need refreshing and renewing just as much as the world around me does. There is no better place than in the beauty of His creation among friends that I love.

 

Softly…softly…like eiderdown floating

Jesus, Lover of my soul,

The touch of your hand soothes all the jagged edges of my spirit,

The places where my “fur” has been rubbed the wrong way,

The dots that refuse to connect,

The derailment of all my intentions,

Scrambling my thoughts and stealing my peace.

 

What a day!

Let me sit at your feet,

Rest my head on your knee

And just be.

 

I will drink from your cup and be satisfied

And when I am at peace I will see

What I missed in the midst of the storm…

 

You were there.

The Grey before the Green

I have always loved the colour green in all its many guises, from the rich and vibrant hues of spring to the deep blue-green of the ocean on a sunny day.  It speaks to me of life and never fails to touch my spirit with hope. Who would dream that a colour could do that?

I recently bought myself an artist quality set of pencil crayons thinking that I would like to reproduce some of the colours that I see in the world around me. I was surprised to discover that I couldn’t find a crayon to match the particular shade of green that I was looking for. I learned that the green I wanted would require a layering and blending of several different colours. After a good deal of experimentation I discovered that in order to achieve the best results, I had to start with grey. That surprised me.

Grey is most definitely not my favourite colour. I probably wouldn’t have bothered to include it in the box had I been in charge of packaging the crayons. In my mind if green is the colour of hope, then grey would be the colour of sadness. I’m glad I wasn’t in charge after all. The shades of grey in my box of colours are more important than I knew. 

There are grey times in my life, times when sadness is my portion. I might have wished that the One in charge hadn’t included that particular colour in the tools He uses to paint the portrait of the woman I am becoming, but now I see that the grey is only a small part of something much richer. It is a necessary step in achieving the final result. I just need to trust the Artist. 

I may be in the grey right now but it is only the grey before the green.

 

Reconnecting

Wow! Here it is March 13 and the snowdrifts in our backyard are positively mountainous. We have a shed out back that I have to say we haven't seen the inside of since November. Access Denied so to speak. We could have cleared a path through the drifts but that would have required a lot of maintenance this winter. We decided that staying connected to our shed wasn't worth the effort.

Staying connected with people takes effort as well. There are some seasons where the maintenance of those connections seems like more work than we can handle. That's the season I have been in lately. I haven't done a very good job of keeping up with my blog or other connecting pathways like Facebook or Twitter. I don't actually have a twitter account. I've never been one for chatting on the phone and writing letters is almost a lost art. It's not surprising that I feel out of touch.

People are important though, and in honour of the coming spring (I am certain it IS coming in spite of the lack of evidence we've seen) I have decided to come out of hibernation and put the effort into re-connecting. Time to start blogging again. I may even open a twitter account. I am sure someone can show me how to go about it. You'll be hearing more from me and that's a promise.