I’ve been feeling rather out of sorts lately; struggling to wrap my mind around a lot of different projects but feeling stuck. And I suddenly realized that — due to the COVID-19 crisis — I no longer have access to my longtime favorite “go to” strategy.
So many times when I couldn’t get going and get productive, I would take myself out to breakfast and work in the restaurant. I think it was the double whammy of distracting myself with a change of environment while at the same time rewarding myself for finally knuckling down and getting to work.
But I haven’t been to town, much less eaten in a restaurant, since mid-March. So I obviously need to find new ways to distract and reward myself. š¤
We performed “Well Done, Lord!” for Sunday service today. It had been a long, long time since we last sang it (not sure why, because it’s one of our favorites).
Seeing as how it’s a rather wordy and poetic song, I was a little worried about remembering all the lyrics. But going over them mentally before service began, I was pleased to discover (yet again!) my tried-and-true secret for remembering words: go deeper into the meaning!
I’ve sung this song hundreds of times over the past twenty years, but today for the first time I really felt the laughter of the mountains as the gypsy clouds sailed by; I could imagine the fields of wheat or wildflowers smiling up at the sun while embracing the morning warmth; and I understood the elation of the trees…every true heart in creation in speechless wonder is bowed.
And once again I bow at Swamiji’s feet in gratitude for the amazing gift of this music.
Well Done, Lord! In India there lived by the banks of a stream A hermit whose prayers chose applause for their theme. He gazed at the flowers, and he smiled at the sun, Then he clapped with delight: āLord,ā he cried, āOh, well done!ā
Well done, Lord! Oh, very well done! The mountains that laugh with the gypsy clouds! The fields smile to welcome the sun; All nature sings praises aloud. The trees dance to show their elation: A day on Godās earth has begun; And every true heart in creation In speechless wonder is bowed.
Well done, Lord! Oh, very well done! The joy that Youāve planted in childrenās hearts! The thrill known in bearing a son; The hope when a trial departs. The gladness of men in their neighbors, Of youth, in its victories won! Our joys are the proof of Your labors: How wonderful, Lord, are Your arts.
Well done, Lord! Oh, very well done! At last Iāve discovered the mystic key: The worldās joy, O Secretive One! Replies to Your sweetness in me. For here in my heart lies the answer: Your love shedding light like the sun! All life seems to leap like a dancer, When, gazing, I see only Thee!
I was preparing to do laundry and noticed there was a sock missing. Ramesha explained that one was “broken” and my brain went blank for a moment. I realized I was trying to figure out how a sock could be broken, only to come to the conclusion that it can’t; but then I wasn’t able to quickly tell him the correct way of saying it!
This made me reflect on how we take for granted so much about our native tongue and how much I appreciate having a husband who grew up speaking a language other than English. I absolutely love these moments when — completely fluent as he is — something he says will make me stop and really notice my language.
Of course I had to Google it and this is what I discovered: 1. Socks can beĀ tornĀ orĀ ripped, but they can’t be broken. Why? 2. Because something flexible, like paper or the cloth of a sock, can’t be “broken”. 3. Even “tearing” or “ripping” a sock is unusual, because of theĀ knittedĀ material they are made of; tearing and ripping are more likely to happen toĀ wovenĀ cloth.
And while it’s not correct to say “broken sock”, you can have a “broken leg sock”; in other words, a sock that’s a cast cover and goes over your foot cast.
I know, I know… given the serious issues we’re all facing it seems rather silly and superficial, but…today I was able to enjoy my first pedicure in four months (thank you, Jivani)! It felt sooooooo good, and I can’t help but smile every time I glance down at my toes. š
There’s something about having one’s feet soaked, exfoliated, scrubbed, and massaged, and one’s toenails trimmed and painted, that feels so very civilized.
I haven’t been there in forever, but it still comes as a shock to read that Louis’ Restaurant is closing as the result of the pandemic.
During the many years I lived in San Francisco, the whole area of the Sutro Bath Ruins, Sutro Park, and Land’s End was my main “happy place.” I would spend hours walking on Ocean Beach or clambering over the ruins or sitting gazing out at the ocean, then head to the Cliff House or Louis’ or the Seal Rock Inn for breakfast.
Other times I would walk through Golden Gate Park or along the Great Highway to get there. I have so many precious memories of my time in San Francisco, although I can’t even begin to imagine living there at this point in time. Which is just as well, since the San Francisco of my memories most likely doesn’t even exist anymore.
Yeah, I seem to have a caught the “just say no” bug tonight, cause I really don’t feel like writing anything. Of course, since the goal of this blog is to write something every single day, I’m writing about not writing!
Another day of taking time to sit and watch and listen. I didn’t see literal blossoms, but all the abundant expressions of LIFE that were happening in front of our apartment were just as clearly speaking of God.
