Being a contemplative soul, it’s easy to understand why I enjoy Sunday mornings. Others love to sleep late, but I love the silence. There is just something about the solitude of a Sunday morning that makes the soul all warm inside. Left with only your thoughts, and prayers, it’s a good chance to think about how the past week went and…if you dare…plan for the upcoming week.
Although I really don’t use it to “plan for the future”, I do use the time to reflect. Not only on how events have gone for me over the past week socially, and professionally, but also to take note of those times when a smile crossed by face.
Like the time this week that a group of kids riding their bikes on the sidewalk just felt compelled to wave at me driving by so vehemently that one of them almost wiped out. I have no idea who they were, and I’m pretty sure they didn’t mistake me for someone they knew. They were just waving at traffic going faster than they were.
Or a summer youth group that put on a musical performance they have been working on all summer. And my niece, age 5, waving as she exited the stage. It was a lot to remember for a 4 year old. More than I think I could have remembered at that age. And, if I tried, I would have been focused so much on not goofing up, I wouldn’t have thought to look for someone in a dark auditorium. I can remember my first foray into acting. I was a cloud…with a beard. The cloud was cutout of some sort of poster board. There were four of us as clouds and I was playing the oldest. My beard was made of shredded toilet paper. I remember it so vividly. I also remember thinking, as a five year old, about how frightened I was. So my niece really impressed me, she didn’t seem to show any of that fear. Now the “diva” that I saw after the performance when she informed us that they forgot to get her on stage for a certain number made me ROAR with laughter. Here I was recalling how scared I was as a first-time performer and wondering how she would handle it. But she was more diva-like than starboardmarty-ish. And that’s a great sign, unless you are the director of her next performance…hehe.
It is so often those “little moments” that we forget. So during that quiet time on a Sunday morning, before we all get moving, these are the things I try to remember again…and smile…again.