Yesterday was another long, fulfilling gardening experience. From 2-6, I dug a new flower bed, transplanted hostas, talked to my neighbors, picked up sticks, mowed the lawn, and stared at the sky. It was just a lovely day.Before coming inside, I remembered a suggestion from photographer Andrea Scher: use your camera self-timer and take pictures of yourself as a superhero. I've used my self-timer to get self-portraits, but never in such a playful way. Be a superhero--why not? So I decided to set the timer and jump around my backyard:
I took multiple photos and laughed the whole time. After a few shots, Mark looked inquisitively out the window. (Also, in one of the photos, my backyard neighbor can be seen in the sliding glass door in the house behind me. It really is fascinating: why is that person jumping and laughing? The secret: we can all jump and laugh; no reason necessary.) I coaxed Mark outside to join me:
This was SO much fun. Anyone with a self-timer on your camera: take a few snaps of yourself leaping and posing in the air; add your loved ones, too. I assure it will make you laugh and definitely put you in touch with a wonderful sense of play.
Monday & Tuesday, I made a quick trip to Mt. Vernon, IA (my hometown). It was wonderful to visit with my parents and my sister's family. There was lots of fun (e.g., laughter, meals, round-table ping pong, sharing stories), yet my main intention for the trip was to help my dad. My parents recently moved from the house I grew up in to a new condo in the same town. This is a positive move, but the process of cleaning out a house filled with 40 years of memories (and stuff) is daunting. So I wanted to help; and I wanted to spend time with my dad.
Over a short period of time, dad and I accomplished many meaningful tasks at both the old house and the new house. Yesterday afternoon, we made one last trip to the old house (dad wanted juice glasses, the hose, a lamp, and I wanted clippings from the lilac bush--a bush that originally came from a cutting of my grandma's lilac bush back on my dad's childhood farm in Michigan).
It was a beautiful day, and dad wanted to clean the hose before we returned to the new house. I was tired and felt a little tug of impatience, since I wanted to get back to Appleton at a reasonable hour. Luckily, I had the clarity to see this impatience for what it was: a fleeting thought from ego that was obstructing my enjoyment of the present moment.
Here was the reality: It was a gorgeous day; I was in the presence of my dad, whom I love unconditionally with my whole heart, respect deeply, and like immensely; and, really, we had all the time in the world. So I relaxed into the moment. I drank in the sunlight and the connection with my dad--now I'll always remember the time we cleaned the hose in March 2012. And I took some photographs. (Thanks, Cococita, for the "beauty in the everyday" prompt!)
It doesn't get much better than a beautiful spring day spent with someone you love.
