Sometimes it’s the Little Things

I’m sure I’m not alone in looking back on this past month with mixed feelings: glad to be moving away from it, but harboring misgivings about not having been as productive as I’d hoped. I do, after all, have a book to finish writing and had begun to do art journaling, though haven’t really completed much. Really, I ask myself on occasion, what in the world have you been doing?

But accomplishments aren’t always tangible, and the most important one these few weeks has been spending time with my teenage son, who has been engaging his film passion, most lately with watching the Harry Potter series. Having grown up reading and watching the tales, he stumbled into a long session of film-clip clowning, imitating the scenes and playing pretend. Eventually, our separate existences—mine being the one allowed to leave for work each day, but strangely exhausted at night—these existences merged and we went from “I want to see that clip real quick” to watching the entire series from start to finish. We’ve both also decided to re-read all the books. You could say we are on the same page.

U.S. edition cover of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.

Early this morning: I’d gone to sleep at about midnight but restlessness drove me to the kitchen by around 05:00. On the way I was gifted with a picture of the sun rising over the mountains. My Turtle had been watching it from the window and, struck by the orange beginning to peek over the mountains, wanted me to be able to see it as well. As it happened I came up behind him as he watched, so we both got to see the real thing.

Not as orange and glorious as reality, but perhaps you can imagine the edge between day and night.

Last week at work our section chief passed me a little packet that at first I took to be some sort of booklet I needed to do something with, but that actually turned out to be a present with a book inside. Surprising, to say the least, but that was nothing compared to my astonishment at the card, signed by everyone not telecommuting. How did they get this around to each other without me noticing? As I looked through The Bucket List: 1000 Adventures Big and Small, I sort of got stuck on one image of Norway’s Kjerag Mountain, more specifically a boulder wedged into the seemingly bottomless crevice. There is a lot more to see in the beautifully heavy book, with its snippets of information about 999 other places across the globe, a true starting point for armchair or other adventure.

Personal photo from one of the world’s most recognizable spots, included, of course, in The Bucket List.

At some point this week I was able to get everything up off the floor in my dining room and the carpet cleaned properly. It looked so beautiful and clear, which means a lot to me, given that when my surroundings are cluttered and chaotic, my mind tends to have difficulty escaping that. If the area is clear and organized, my focus is much improved. The clarity inspired me to take up my son’s offer to help  me move a bookshelf out of a spot I disliked any bookshelf in because it was a smaller area and the space used up simply shrunk everything too much. For better or worse, this meant I had to choose a fair amount of books to pack away, but he offered space in his closet, which meant I could get to the boxes fairly easily at any time, unlike other situations in which it would have been a big production and they would be, for all intents and purposes, off limits.

My newly rearranged smaller bookshelf, with a variety of categories: some previous review titles, a few classics, history and, at bottom, the paper lovers’ magazines I’ve spoken of before, most of which focus on a mindfulness theme. A deliberate choice I made, despite its consequence of less space for books, was to place items, such as the basket and Russian bowl, in its own space. This was to avoid clutter and a feeling of being bloated and overpacked. For me, this promotes a sense of relaxation and ease.

As we move into the newly developing world we are to inhabit, I do it with a sense of clean lines in life, having shed some extra weight, albeit not, as has happened in the past, a ruthless purge. My son had “consoled” me with the the reminder that at any time I want to switch books out or retrieve any, I can. Ah, yes, I do still hang on to some of the material: I am getting rid of a beautiful bookshelf, but continue to find it difficult to release books. Still, it suits, especially as I am laying out ideas to prepare my long-unused deck for summertime, and I try to retain a balance within my home, that is, keeping with a bring-it-in, send-it-out equilibrium.

While I haven’t finished much on anything that might qualify as a quarantine masterpiece, I did pave my way toward something I dream of accomplishing, and the pathway was a bit more delightful than had I traveled a hard road of focused determination. Memories and the creation thereof have been woven into each moment, even the really difficult ones, and sharing them is the best way I could have done this.


Pictures ©2020 Lisl Zlitni. Not to be used without permission.

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