I woke up this morning and landed in cat vomit. Apparently, I overfed my cat.
This is no way to start year two of Live with Flair.
Then I remember my friend in Japan whose father sent word that we might send canned food items for him to distribute to the disaster areas. I remember that in some places in the world at this very moment, a mother would give anything to rise from a warm bed, place her feet on the ground, and greet the day with two healthy little girls who can't stop laughing at their mother's foot covered in cat vomit.
In some places in the world (in most places), nobody talks about the luxury of overfed cats. But here, even the animals gorge themselves.
There's too much here. There's not enough there.
Stepping in cat vomit was a great reminder today as I think about ways to send relief to the hungry.
Stepping in cat vomit sounded the alarm about ways to be thankful for the fact that I even have too much cat food.
Living with flair means I cultivate a grateful and generous heart. I have too much.
______________________________
Journal: When I'm tempted to complain about all the inconveniences and all the misfortunes of my day, what do I need to remember to cultivate a grateful and generous heart? For me, it's cat vomit.
Showing posts with label thankfulness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label thankfulness. Show all posts
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Even the Olives
Even the olives are stuffed at my house today.The rooms overflow with family--children underfoot, waiting for a feast.
Even the animals are well-fed and comfortable.
What luxury to be stuffed like this.
Even the olives cannot hold more.
Friday, May 7, 2010
7 Beautiful Things
1. Hearing that my neighbors are celebrating their 15th wedding anniversary by recreating their first dates.
2. Seeing a brown bunny with a huge cotton tail hopping in the yard.
3. Putting maraschino cherries in my drink just because.
4. Listening to my husband on the phone as he arranged to borrow a truck to deliver compost to the backyard for a new vegetable garden.
5. Feeding the pet turtle, Stripe, that I'm babysitting for two weeks.
6. Wrapping myself in a huge green blanket as I write this because my basement office is chilly.
7. Knowing that a friend with seven children received a day of housecleaning as a Mother's Day gift from her husband.
It's May 7th. Another ordinary day in my neighborhood. Seven different moments made me happy today, and it's not even lunch time yet. As I wrote this list just now, I asked myself what made each moment so full of flair for me.
They each triggered a special memory: nervous and romantic first dates with my husband, chasing rabbits in a field when I was eight, ordering Shirley Temples with my father at fancy restaurants, growing the hugest tomatoes as a kindergartner (I still can see them in my mind), finding turtles on the banks of our backyard creek as teenager (I was too old for this, and yet I knew some things you don't outgrow), wrapping my friend in this green blanket as she slept on my couch one weekend nearly a decade ago, and remembering a best friend before she was married, before her life became the day-in and day-out of raising kids, and knowing she could rest today as someone else scrubbed her toilets.
The brain is a file cabinet of memories we turn into beautiful narratives. We thread the present moment into this quilt of memories and find its place in relation to all we've been through. What I love about living with flair is that it embeds my thoughts in the now while allowing deep reflection into past joys.
It's not a future thing. It's never a fantasy about what should or will be. Living with flair is fully experiencing the day, connecting it to what we love and loved, and staying in that place of joy. No need to imagine a different life. No need to ask what's missing. It's all right here.
2. Seeing a brown bunny with a huge cotton tail hopping in the yard.
3. Putting maraschino cherries in my drink just because.
4. Listening to my husband on the phone as he arranged to borrow a truck to deliver compost to the backyard for a new vegetable garden.
5. Feeding the pet turtle, Stripe, that I'm babysitting for two weeks.
6. Wrapping myself in a huge green blanket as I write this because my basement office is chilly.
7. Knowing that a friend with seven children received a day of housecleaning as a Mother's Day gift from her husband.
It's May 7th. Another ordinary day in my neighborhood. Seven different moments made me happy today, and it's not even lunch time yet. As I wrote this list just now, I asked myself what made each moment so full of flair for me.
They each triggered a special memory: nervous and romantic first dates with my husband, chasing rabbits in a field when I was eight, ordering Shirley Temples with my father at fancy restaurants, growing the hugest tomatoes as a kindergartner (I still can see them in my mind), finding turtles on the banks of our backyard creek as teenager (I was too old for this, and yet I knew some things you don't outgrow), wrapping my friend in this green blanket as she slept on my couch one weekend nearly a decade ago, and remembering a best friend before she was married, before her life became the day-in and day-out of raising kids, and knowing she could rest today as someone else scrubbed her toilets.
The brain is a file cabinet of memories we turn into beautiful narratives. We thread the present moment into this quilt of memories and find its place in relation to all we've been through. What I love about living with flair is that it embeds my thoughts in the now while allowing deep reflection into past joys.
It's not a future thing. It's never a fantasy about what should or will be. Living with flair is fully experiencing the day, connecting it to what we love and loved, and staying in that place of joy. No need to imagine a different life. No need to ask what's missing. It's all right here.
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