At times I forget just how different we are. Lately I haven't gone far away from our own community to see this. You would think that a bunch of "seniors" living in protected bubble would be of a singular mind. But, then just think about how many years each has had to collect opinions and likes and dislikes of our own.
I've always been aware of the subtleties of my surroundings - the breeze in the trees - sun bouncing off water - clouds in the sky - you get the picture. I love nature and the creatures that live within. My aunt was a people watcher. If she were not sitting in her favorite place ever (on a bench in Maine next to the ocean overlooking the lighthouse at the Nubble in York), she would love to sit anywhere and watch humanity stroll by. I guess between the two of us the surrounding landscape was covered. Maybe it comes as we get older, for recently I have getting my own chuckles out of observing and listening to the myriad of personalities around me.
Recently in church, our organist played a lovely, soft, almost flute like prelude. I found it so calming, it truly readied me for worship. The choir was small that day but I thought the double trio carried the anthem wonderfully. Their voices once again filled my soul. After church I mentioned the lovely music to one of my neighbors. She in turn said she found it boring and thought he should keep to more dramatic music to set her mind for worship. One of my other neighbors said the choir was terrible. They did not harmonize at all. Then said perhaps her hearing aide needed adjusted. (Chuckle in my mind!)
A group of us went to see the touring Norman Rockwell exhibit. Of course there was the usual difference of opinion as to whether he was an artist or just an illustrator. His work is so detailed and yes, on the Saturday Evening Post, it truly told a story without words. But in my mind, he was a spectacular artist who specialized in illustration. I know, I know, back in art classes many said he wasn't an artist for his work was a money making job. He sold out his creativity. I just thought, sour grapes, don't you wish yours did. But here again, each of us sees the same canvas but comes away with a different interpretation. I suppose some think of NC Wyeth as "just an illustrator" but I would say have you seen his originals for Robinson Crusoe? I see an artist in those brush strokes. (Off your soapbox - Liz - remember different strokes for different folks - pun intended).
We stopped at Red Lobster after the exhibit. The neighbor to the left of me thought her bowl of clam chowder was just wonderful. Across the table I heard - ewww - this is not good at all. (Chuckle)
Yes, my aunt had something going here. Guess I had to get to a place in life where I slowed down just enough to listen. There's more joy in life than hugging trees.
In my own home. My husband loves black licorice and I can't stand anise in any form. Even worse, he enjoys liver. Ewww! But I guess I trump that with my sushi - yum!
As my daughter would say - What ever floats your boat.
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Lately I have been making an effort to slow down a bit so each day doesn't fly by in a blur. We went to see Blind Side this afternoon. Whether you are into football or not - this is one movie of human kindness that I recommend to everyone.
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I can't remember this quote verbatim nor do I remember the author BUT this is what I have been thinking of a lot. The past is done, the future has promise but is not guaranteed - today is a GIFT that is why it is called the PRESENT.
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