September 11: I eagerly anticipated my MRI all day today. Not quite as fun as the anesthesia they give you for colonoscopies, but almost. I rushed home, fried up a bunch of salmon cakes, grabbed my book and headed out. I was quickly ushered into the room and lay down. Bolster under my knees? Check. Warm blanket from neck to toe? Check. Jackhammering that reminded me of Manhattan? Check. I settled in, stayed perfectly still and was disappointed when it was over. Maybe silence is a state of mind sometimes.
September 12: I’m taking a break from my heavy nonfiction book to read a YA novel about sprites, goblins and other magical creatures. So I was unsurprised to walk through a delicate cloud of white fuzz, shaken loose from a parkland weed — and dancing for all the world like fairies.
September 13: I paused a few car-lengths from a red light in order to allow two heavily laden people to cross the street in front of me. The man turned to me. With a free hand, he pointed to my Prius, then to his right eye. He gave a thumbs up, and then pointed to his left eye. Thumbs down. Hmmm… it looks like I have a new headlight in my future!
September 14: My friends, you are in for a treat! My sister sent me a wonderful account from our childhood, called “The Forest of No Return.” She’s given me permission to post it. Read it here. Thank you, Dianne, for your encouragement and for the memories!
September 15: Our local organization Welcoming Falls Church hosted a talk by Imbolo Mbue, who won the 2017 PEN/Faulkner Award for her debut novel “Behold the Dreamers.” Speaking about her own experience emigrating from Cameroon to the United States, she cautioned us: “We are not curious enough about each other’s stories. We choose fear instead. Imagine asking someone you disagree with: ‘What is your life like? What are your struggles?’ If we listened with an open heart, would we be less afraid?”
September 16: I earned a free drink from my coffee shop, so I went all in: large decaf latte extra hot. It’s on the house, Duffy said. No, I said, I have my coupon. Use it next time, he said. It’s on the house.
September 17: A wise friend said to me over lunch on Sunday: “We crave safety. Therefore, we think we want to be invulnerable. But in fact, at our core, we long for vulnerability, because vulnerability leads to connection.” I love this — and it’s hard for me. Maybe each of us can identify a way we feel vulnerable — and share it with someone. I wonder what will happen.
A Reader’s Delight: From Wendy Henninger: “This rose is in full bloom today. Last year I transplanted this small bush to my yard. It was one of several that had been my grandmother’s garden, then moved to my parent’s, and then dug up again and moved to mine. My grandmother and mother are no longer living, but the simple act of tending to the same roses gives me a connection to them that is hard to put in words. It’s a small delight that has spiritual resonance.”
Another Reader’s Delight: From Karen: “I love reading your blog. It delights me, as do my two youngest grandsons. It is also amazing how delightful water splashing is!”
My own bonus Delight: Prompted by my September 2 Delight, my sister sent me this photo. She kept it! She found it! Our real-life, 1965 World’s Fair plastic dinosaur.
And thank you, Kevin, for sharing the feature photo, from his hot air balloon ride in Albuquerque, New Mexico.
Dear Readers, do you find yourself noticing small delights during your own day? I’d love to share yours here. Send me a few sentences or a photo — or both! And let me know if I should mention your name. Email your Delight here: Carolann.firstname.lastname@example.org. You might, as I do, start finding them in surprising places. Let’s glimpse bits of joy together.