I’m debating whether to describe this day as “half full” or “half empty”. You know what I mean? The optimist looks at a glass filled halfway with water and calls in “half full”. The pessimist looks at the same glass and labels it “half empty”.
So here’s the February scenario for you. Gray heavy clouds sink down from the skies, drizzling dampness on everything. Sodden. Gray. Ominous. It feels like you’re moving in a dismal ashen world. A shivering clammy dank humidity surrounds and penetrates everything and everyone. The driveway has turned to deep slush and mud. Everything is soaked, bleak, saturated. (Doesn’t this sound like describing the glass as “half empty”?)
Let’s try again to describe the day as “half full”. The vaporous mist blankets the forest, its silvery beauty rising up against the oyster skies. The moistness of the drizzling pearly mid-winter melting etches the world in lovely filmy artistry and allurement. Everywhere shades of gray rise against the bare bone landscape of tree branches. Three fat mourning doves appear magically beneath the spruce tree, pecking amongst the spruce cones.
Which scenario is the “truth”? Gray dull moody world or lovely drizzling shades of silver?
To tell you the truth, most of the day I labeled it all just gray and heavy. But somewhere in the afternoon while we were filling the wood room, my inner view shifted. And suddenly it all looked so beautiful. Interesting how a simple shift of perspective can change everything. I sure felt better as my awareness changed.
I recommend giving this a try whenever labeling the weather as undesirable. Go outside and look around for the beauty. Or, better yet, just intensely look around, instead of allowing the thoughts to label indiscriminately. Beauty is bound to show herself.
You may be wondering why we needed to fill the wood room again. We really didn’t. Except this melt was the perfect time to re-stock our supply. If we wait for another week or two, a foot or two of snow may cover up our dwindling pile. We spent at least 45 minutes hefting the split logs from one set of arms to another, and then stacking on top the pile in the wood room.
It feels a good accomplishment to finish that chore this afternoon.
Speaking of weather, I’m actually starting to hope for colder weather. Yes, you heard that right. Mostly for the sake of the ice fishermen. You see, my brother-in-law is arriving in early March for his first-ever ice fishing spree out on the Big Lake. We need to have good thick ice for him. We really do. Although I might selfishly pine for warmth, the fellows need deep ice. So….that’s my weather order. A couple weeks of colder weather, eh?
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February 12, 2009 at 8:52 am
Cindy
I hear you on wishing for cold and thicker ice …. never would I have thought that I’d be hoping for it, but like you, we have company coming this weekend (brother-in-law and nephew) to go ice-fishing on the big lake! Oh boy….what we wish for to keep our guys happy, hey? 🙂
February 12, 2009 at 1:49 pm
KD
Love the trapped leaves!
February 12, 2009 at 10:45 pm
Gerry
We need enough winter and a gradual spring so that the sleeping orchards wake at the right time, instead of flinging off their blankets and dancing about in giddy abandon – only to be frost-bitten by the last slash of freezing weather. I loved the couple days of “spring” we had, but I know winter’s not over.
February 13, 2009 at 7:45 pm
centria
Cindy, I think your brother-in-law and nephew will have enough ice this weekend. You’re right…what we wish for to keep our guys happy! Barry’s already thawing bait for tomorrow morning’s trip.
K, I liked those trapped leaves too. Doesn’t it just seem like they’re trying to say something?
Gerry, aren’t you right? We’ve had springs when the pussy willows blossomed too quickly. And one year the baby oak leaves came out and shriveled too soon in the freezing spring. We can’t be having that. Oaks will only take that kind of indignity for a couple winters before they start to die…. I am thinking of your sleeping orchards down there in the Lower Peninsula quite fondly right now.
February 11, 2012 at 7:58 am
Elisa's Spot
hehe someone came into the room this morning, slithering about for a reading, whining and complaining and putting me down, before wanting me to fix them….
she began with ….i feel like i am missing something
and i rather dodged but talked about something that might have her think on her own…and i was thinking grass is greener everywhere but where our feet hide it
and state of mind of observation and shiny water and then i came here
the glass half full or glass half empty i told her and then i said OR….
oooooooooooooo look at that shiny glittering fluid surface
February 12, 2012 at 10:06 am
Kathy
Dear Elisa, you have such interesting contradictory people in your life. (Note to self: aren’t ALL people interesting and contradictory?) I wonder if all of us feel like we are missing something because we’re not Everything. I am learning to love the small something that I am a bit more. Are you, too?
February 12, 2012 at 11:05 am
Elisa's Spot
Someone else pointed out to me the being separate from Creator that creates such angst and wishing to be filled with everything in order not to notice empty. This person was whining about not having a husband and kids, and more in the way of looking like a movie, unhealthy. Maybe, at a stretch, this way of thinking does stem from somehow not being enough and not being part of Everything?
Maybe being hard on myself and then, in turn, others, I am loving or not loving myself. It’s difficult when a thing is truly unhealthy and also reflects something I have done and changed my thinking about.
Thanks for the chide, helped me to think larger.
Better words for Right and right, right now–best thinking, best job based upon options and limitations in thinking of individual choosing.
February 12, 2012 at 11:15 am
Kathy
I didn’t mean to chide, Elisa! Honest…just thinking out loud. Like your better words. Will probably forget to use them, but they sound good. Good day!
February 15, 2012 at 7:32 am
Elisa's Spot
“If you hide your ignorance, no one will hit you and you’ll never learn.”
– Ray Bradbury
I was grateful for that feeling of chide that I had when I read your words, no matter your intent. There are so many things that fly around in a person’s brain in a single moment, sometimes we can see them, sometimes not. For me, it’s the ability to express, even an eighth, so that I can see what God offers back to me, to be sure that I make the attempt to notice.
February 15, 2012 at 7:32 pm
Kathy
I was thinking today–wondering how often we comment from our own thoughts and others might take it as a chide. How good it is when we can allow ourselves to learn and sway, supple as trees. Blessings…