vitalwholeness

I sat at a cafe having a bowl of soup, the snow having fallen through the grey skies for the first time this winter, just in time for the world-ending-according-to-Mayan-Calendar that didn’t come. I left my scarf on because my body was just not yet accustomed to the temperature change.

As I slurped my Tomato Bisque I gazed across the street toward another restaurant, one that has an open-air porch for outdoor seating when the weather is right. I have seen it filled with college students many a time. But not that day. It was lonely and dejected, remembering the good old days when young people spilled beer on its floors. One element remained the same, however.

A lone ceiling fan whirled in its courses. I could see it through the nearly horizontal blowing snow flakes. Thank goodness we are keeping the air circulated on this sultry, balmy, close afternoon. I just stared at its incongruity.

Something like it happens in the summer when an automatic sprinkler system turns on during a rain storm. Thank goodness we’re watering the lawn right now.

And it caused me to ponder all our automatic responses that are so ingrained in our little heads and hearts, how they keep on going and showing up, long after they are called for, their relevance spent. It’s just as silly, of course. I have this emotion or that, repeat this behavior or that, a ceiling fan on the porch in winter, a sprinkler in the rain storm.

Solvo nos O Deus.
Free us, O God.