by Carol Taylor | May 6, 2015 | DRE Blog
Our home finally went on the market last Friday and consequently we had two showings on Saturday afternoon to prepare for. After scrambling all day Friday to be prepared and then doing more touch-up on Saturday morning, my family was exhausted and wondered what we could do for a whole afternoon with the dogs and ourselves. As fortune would have it, it was a glorious day here in Woodinville, so we decided to pick up a lunch and head to Marymoor Park. My son cautioned us that Marymoor was crazy busy on nice days, but he took one car and we took the other and off we set for 6 hours away from the house.
After a lovely picnic in the park, we decided to try the off-leash park and at least let our large dog Fritz have a romp. As I reflect on that afternoon, the trepidation we had of spending an afternoon entertaining the dogs, ended up as pure joy. Yes the park was busy. Yes there were lots of dogs and people. But everyone was smiling, every dog was in heaven-sniffing, running, splashing in the water, meeting new friends. There was sunshine, laughter, blue herons nesting. I spent lots of time walking, but finally sat on a bench with my little dog, Max, to soak up the sun and just watch.
It’s a funny thing, time. When we were rushing around trying to get the house ready, it didn’t seem like there would be enough time to do everything we needed to do. As I sat at the dog park, time stood still for a while. Six hours didn’t seem long, but it didn’t seem short either. My dogs had water, sunshine, treats. I had water, sunshine, treats. There was nothing to do but be caught up in the activity around me and be present to the sights and sounds of people and their best buddies. Each moment was special because each moment was new and experienced. I wasn’t in my head about what needed to be done or when I needed to be somewhere else. I knew I had time to spend in this place at this moment in time, and it was freeing.
As time slowed, as I focused only on the moment, I noticed I was at peace and relaxed for the first time in a while. I am still recounting the joy that I experienced that afternoon. It was unexpected, born out of necessity and much needed. I think I need to slow down time more often!
by WUUC | Apr 29, 2015 | Minister Blog
Click for May’s theme, JOY
I whined to Carrie, “Who picked the theme of ‘joy’ for this month?” Yes, it was none other than myself. I have no idea what I was thinking at the time I chose it. And I should know better because “joy” is not a word I throw around lightly. For me, it is not a constant but rather something experienced in a moment and is then gone. I do not chase after it. I do not mourn its loss. But for me, it is something that does not come often. Not because I am a depressive sort of person but because “joy” has a sacredness to it that I do not take lightly. That does not mean that I feel joy only in a religious context. Far from it. More than anything else in my life, dogs bring me to joy in nanoseconds. My spouse likes to say that they light up a certain part of my brain. I have to agree. We all have things that light up our brains in joy.
Kahlil Gibran and Rumi talk about joy and sorrow existing right alongside one another. Gibran wrote, “Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.” And Rumi wrote, “Sorrow prepares you for joy. It violently sweeps everything out of your house, so that new joy can find space to enter.” I find that I absolutely concur and disagree. For me, joy can just spontaneously arise from the heart or spirit. It does not need preparing for. Being nearly overwhelmed or awed by it is part of joy.
And yet, I know what Gibran writes of. When my friend’s brother suddenly died, the morning and afternoon were nothing but raw, unadulterated grief. But in the late afternoon, butterflies began to alight upon the lavender and Jacob’s Beard in bloom in her garden. We were mesmerized. The butterfly is a symbol of rebirth. Was this her brother reborn to her? We were all swept up within the beauty we were observing. It was a more tender beauty because of the death. So I understand Gibran’s words.
But I not think that sorrow lurks asleep on our beds while we sit at the table sharing a meal. Nor do I think that it is the opposite of joy. The opposite of joy for me is indifference, an inability to be internally moved by what is before us or what we experience. Joy and sorrow can inhabit the same space but they can exist independent of the other. Sorrow we cannot avoid in our lives. But joy… I am going to work on cultivating it.
Rev. Lo
Our home finally went on the market last Friday and consequently we had two showings on Saturday afternoon to prepare for. After scrambling all day Friday to be prepared and then doing more touch-up on Saturday morning, my family was exhausted and wondered what we could do for a whole afternoon with the dogs and ourselves. As fortune would have it, it was a glorious day here in Woodinville, so we decided to pick up a lunch and head to Marymoor Park. My son cautioned us that Marymoor was crazy busy on nice days, but he took one car and we took the other and off we set for 6 hours away from the house.