One (more) beautiful thing

“In the long, long trip of growing,
There are stops along the way
For thoughts of all the soft things
And a look at yesterday.
For a chance to fill our feelings
With comfort and with ease,
And then tell the new tomorrow:
‘You can come now when you please.”

~ Fred Rogers

After the stomach flu.

After Costa Rica.

After Christmas.

After plagues varied and plenty.

After (almost) all have gone home.

It seems the turn of the year is upon us.

For me, it’s time to settle back in, to gently ease myself into the rhythms of life that sustain me, to allow for a slow descent, but to insist on the descent nonetheless. It’s time to breathe again.

To gaze more than glance.
To listen more than search.
To soak more than swab.

One adult kiddo is still in residence, and for that I am grateful. She has made, with her presence, a padded crash for me. She has allowed me to grieve the ending of the travels and holidays without the gaping silence that can come so quickly it can be akin to a sonic boom. She’s held my soul from going too quickly, from the burble of the pot into the void of my current life. For this current life is more than I could ever ask for, this current moment a great and frankly wondrous gift. But that transition, from the chaos and effort of family and faces and fences and festivities, into the slow and silent and quietly intentional of my wide open now… it must be made tenderly if the grief is to have its proper place and not sour to sorrow or despair. I have to drop in slowly, or the change in altitude can crush my tender bits. The lone kiddo has given me the gift of slow, and for that I am grateful.

“It may be that the most important mastery we achieve early on is not the mastery of a particular skill or particular piece of knowledge, but rather the mastery of the patience and persistence that learning requires, along with the ability to expect and accept mistakes and the feelings of disappointment they may bring.”

~ Fred Rogers

On this eve of another year opening up before us, I ran across someone’s Instagram post who spoke directly into my heart. Who got it.

Not that I can find it again. Not that it matters.

But they voiced what my insides felt, more keenly this year than most. That tomorrow isn’t about crushing the New Year, bearing down, digging in, or taking anything by the horns, so much as welcoming her in and offering her tea (I remember that part). It reminded me that the only resolutions I want to make (not that I’m one for commitments, most especially not resolutions) are just a continued engagement in the dance already underway… to embrace the slow and still, to stay open and to notice, to point at the moon and keep one foot in the stream. To Be Here Now. That’s more than enough.

That said, I am going to undertake one new thing, maybe even starting tomorrow. Not a resolution, but an intention. A practice to deepen a practice…

In the spirit of the one beautiful thing per day practice that I stole from wonder wizard Matt Haig, I’m going to join with D. Michele Perry in thewonderhabit, and attempt to capture just one of those beautiful things per day on a 1″x1″ square of paper, every day for all of 2025.

Eek. 365 days?

Yep, that’s the plan. But baked directly into that plan is the subplan to miss more days than I’ll hit, because I’m me. And because it’s not about the hits, but the practice, and I can’t think of a better way to embody one beautiful thing, to ingrain it into the days, to deepen and sink in.

Watercolor, pencil, collage, color, word, image, impression. I don’t care how it works, and I’m not fluent in any of it. Art beyond writing is one of those things that I admire so much in others, and cannot for the life of me convince myself to give time to. But a 1″x1″ square? Come on. Even I can do that. I might even share how it’s going from time to time. But let’s not get too crazy.

Announcing my intention is a thing I’ve learned NOT to do, as it’s historically the surest way to fall flat within minutes, but I’m sticking my neck out this one time, just in case someone might want to join me. Anybody up for the world’s tiniest challenge?

Breaking news: an executive decision is coming down, right here before your very eyes. This new practice, for li’l ‘ol me, will start today, and not tomorrow. Because as much as I love nice round things, and starting on the last day of the year could potentially trigger an aneurism, perfection will most certainly be my demise here, so why not give the thing a jagged edge right out of the gate? You know, scratch the new ride on the way out of the lot. Take the pressure off.

Gah. I’m off to cut up some paper. You comin’?

“I recently learned that in an average lifetime a person walks about sixty-five thousand miles. That’s two and a half times around the world. I wonder where your steps will take you. I wonder how you’ll use the rest of the miles you’re given.”

~ Fred Rogers