Day of Rest

The Heart of Things by Christina Rosalie

I bought this piece during Christina Rosalie’s recent Celebrate Spring! studio sale. She’s one of my favorite writers and I adore her art. I’d tried in past studio sales to buy something, but I was never quick enough. By the time I would look at what she was offering, find my favorite, someone else had already claimed it. When I saw this one — the bird in flight, the quote on the bottom, the colors — I knew it was my favorite, but it was listed first so I thought for sure it would already belong to someone else. I was so surprised when I clicked on it and saw that no one had claimed it yet. I refreshed the page a few times because I couldn’t believe it. Once it sunk in that no one else had picked it, I left a comment: Me please. ❤

“Magic through the heart.” I love that so much. I asked Christina what kind of bird it is, but she hasn’t told me yet, and I’m glad. I guessed it’s a sparrow, with that little body and the shape of its head, but I’ve never seen a blue one. I did some research this morning to see if it might be a real sparrow or simply an artistic representation, or another bird altogether. First I searched for blue birds, then for blue sparrows, and what I found is a sweet little mystery. There shouldn’t be blue sparrows, and yet they’ve apparently been spotted in both Australia and Canada — but no one can explain them. I found a few articles about the mystery, Blue sparrow mystery: Unique bird confounds experts and Brown Bird Blue: Unique, Never-Before-Seen Color Mutation Amazes Experts and The Riddle of the Blue Sparrow…, along with a few pictures.

The world is such a magic, mysterious place. We think we know, but we don’t know anything, can’t explain how such things can happen or exist. Simply by paying attention, noticing, being curious and patient, you discover the most interesting things. Sometimes it’s a thing entirely new, like a bird the color of the ocean that no one can explain, and other times it’s remembering, like hearing the sound of the birds in the early morning of spring and realizing for the first time how quiet the mornings had been all winter — either way, it feels like waking up.

The sunrise,the moon, and one of my favorite trees on our walk this morning.

Find a bit of beauty in the world today. Share it. If you can’t find it, create it. Some days this may be hard to do. Persevere. ~Lisa Bonchek Adams

Lisa Bonchek Adams died Friday night, at home surrounded by her family. She was first diagnosed with breast cancer in 2006 when she was 36 years old. In 2012, she learned that her cancer had metastasized to her lymph nodes and bones. She was a blogger and active on Twitter, where she wrote about living with cancer. She was honest about her experience in the hopes it might help others, was an advocate for herself but also for others through her Memorial Sloan-Kettering research fund. She left behind three kids and a husband, the most adorable Corgi, a gorgeous garden, and many people who love her.

I didn’t know Lisa personally, but I know some of her friends, followed her, read her blog and her tweets, was encouraged by her, and wished her the best. I was wishing so hard that she’d get to see another spring, but also knew she’d been very sick recently, was struggling. She reminded me so much of Kelly. And Ann. And Heather. And because that gets me thinking about cancer, I can’t help but revisit the loss of my Obi and sweet Dexter too.

Every death reminds me how important it is to show up for my life, to keep my heart open, to all of it — tender and terrible, beautiful and brutal. It inspires me, encourages me to keep going, to not give up. Just two weeks ago, Lisa tweeted, “Make the most of this day. Whatever that means to you, whatever you can do, no matter how small it seems.”

That’s my plan for this day of rest, to “make the most of this day.” That’s going to mean some remembering, some grief and sadness, but also deep gratitude. I’m going to do the laundry, sweep the floors, change all the clocks, make a salad, and whatever other chores there might be. I’m also going to read and listen to a dharma talk from Susan Piver, spend some time with Eric and take another long walk with the dogs. I’m going to be gentle with myself, and with others. I’m going to do the best I can, “no matter how small it seems.”