It’s been an uneventful week and I wasn’t entirely sure what topic would make for a good post. Maybe this time I should celebrate the mundane.
The church I where I sing is undergoing extensive renovations. The building will be magnificent when complete, but for the moment we’re celebrating the services in the parish hall. The parish is known for its excellent music. Singing there is the only real reason I’ve got for attending. The sanctuary has pristine acoustics. The parish hall can be euphemistically described as “comfy.” There are no hard surfaces and any sound is swallowed. Construction is delayed a bit and now we’re not likely to be back in the sanctuary until after Easter.
Our director has used this as an opportunity to be creative, selecting anthems that sound lovely sung with a piano or a cappella. The organ isn’t an option so he doesn’t lament. I admit that I’d be prone to griping in similar circumstances. I’m not the director, I don’t have to worry about the music, and I’m fine with both things. Credit it to my Lenten maturity. Ha!
Today I’m thankful for occasional chances to live slowly.
Today is Ash Wednesday. I’m ambivalent toward formal religion and lean agnostic. Even so, I sing in the choir of a local Anglican church. Singing is like breathing to me. I need both to live. I attend most Sundays because we sing at set points through the entire service. I don’t believe in the metaphysical aspects but I still find beauty in the rituals, and consider “seeking justice and loving mercy” a worthy idea.
I honestly love the liturgical calendar. I’m struck by the idea that every day is a feast honoring someone. Every day becomes a celebration. Dividing the year into various “-tides” that reflect the cycle of seasons feels far less artificial to me than worrying about quarterly goals. I don’t suffer from misguided nostalgia in thinking the past was “purer” because survival required so much more effort. I do wonder whether we’ve compartmentalized and subdivided our lives so much as to be pointless.
I don’t sacrifice anything for Lent. That would mean abiding by proscriptions I just don’t believe. I do try to use the season to live an examined life. I don’t have any grand final insights. I write what I see. I probably won’t be an objectively better person by Easter but I will be reminded that what I do has consequences for good or ill. I don’t think knowing that is ever a bad thing.
Today I’m thankful for red writing implements.
My employer regularly reviews policies relating to every aspect of our work. There are thousands of them so it is a continuous process. In a first, my group was asked for input on several that directly affect our work. We were each given a paper copy and a red pen and told to have at. I found a contradictory statement and wrote “logical fallacy!!!” in big red letters. It made me feel better. I’m easily amused. I doubt we’ll have any appreciable impact on the final product but it won’t be from lack of trying.
Today I’m thankful for out-of-town drivers.
Learning the layout of a new place takes me a while. I navigate about as well as a concussed hamster. I try not to be the driver going below the speed limit and looking around so I don’t miss my turning. I pull into a lot and reconnoiter.
I was stuck behind one of them today. I couldn’t pass as a bus was approaching in the opposite direction. I reminded myself that they were probably injecting money into the local economy and satisfied myself with muttering under my breath.
We’ve all been that driver at some point in a new town. Extend the patience you wish someone’d shown you, then rant when you get home. It’s less distracting when you’re not driving.