sunday grace

thursday evening i strolled through the mid-century collection at the virginia fine arts museum (evening art field trips are one way i stay sane while working out of town).  i happened to be behind a group of six-year-olds.  their guide/teacher/docent was attempting to educate them about abstract art between repeated and desperate pleas to the children (mostly boys) to keep their hands off the paintings and sculptures.  one little boy toward the back of the pack looked confused and whispered something to his hand-holding buddy.  his buddy looked at him and said, "it's like a real rainbow, but you have to think about what a rainbow means to you."

i am always blown away when big brilliance comes from such miniature beings.  i found myself considering the rest of the pieces i saw that night with his words in mind.  in fact, i found myself considering most everything since then with his words in mind:  it's like a real snowstorm, but you have to think about what a snowstorm means to you; it's like a real weekend, but you have to think about what a weekend means to you; it's like a real argument, but you have to think about what an argument means to you; it's like real yoga, but you have to think about what yoga means to you; it's like a real most-hideous-photo-of-you-posted-on-facebook-without-your-approval-of-either-the-taking-or-the-posting, but you have to think about what the most-hideous-photo-of-you-posted-on-facebook-without-your-approval-of-either-the-taking-or-the-posting means to you; it's like a real ____, but you have to think about what a ____ means to you.

seeing my ordinary life through this lens brought instant presence, grounding, openness, meaning and curiosity, leading me to the real story and avoiding (mostly) my programmed patterns of reactivity and conditioned inner narrative.

children are the best teachers.

little buddhas everywhere.

happy thursday

the happy part of business trips, which are usually to richmond, is a stroll through carytown (it's really just cary street, but called carytown). this is my favorite type of shopping: an older district where vintage stores have been lovingly restored and filled with goodies.

my absolute favorite is world of mirth.

the shop is a bonafide toy shop, but has many, many wares that appeal to the childish spirit of adults. (my head was too big for these heart-shaped glasses.) there are also funky gifty items, everything from recycled bags to a jesus bobblehead.

I love that world of mirth was imagined to be a whimsical, colorful escape from the real world. there is a sad story behind the little genius who created it (and it's a really tragic story, so don't click over if you are not ready to shed some tears), but the little shop's drive to keep spreading the happy dream persevered. and we are grateful.

I took the blue one home with me. I liked the sparks that came out of his head. he was just a wee bit more committed to his sparking responsibilities than the others.

so I discovered that late afternoon really is a good time to visit a toy store. it was practically deserted and I could play without having to boggart the bike-riding duck from a first grader. although I have to say that the gleeful laughter of children really completes the experience.

if you are ever in the richmond, virginia area, you must spend some time at this happy, happy place.