Wednesday, January 1, 2014

Beginning again

From http://www.heartlight.org
1/1/2014 began with dog $#!%.

Stay with me on this.  Over vacation, Nick and I have been taking turns getting up with the dog, Luna, since she is the only one in our family not taking full advantage of the lack of 1) alarm clocks and 2) obligations of work and school.  Today was my day.

So I plodded down to the kitchen in my slipper socks (you may have noticed that wearing warm, fuzzy socks has now been mentioned twice in this blog -- Dumbledore and I have a lot in common in that regard), released the hound, and went about giving her breakfast.  After that I pulled on a jacket, grabbed a couple of bags, and went outside to pick up poop.  I've found it's much easier to collect when frozen (you're welcome), so first thing in the morning is a good time to clean the yard.  Plus, B. is having friends over this afternoon, and the last thing I need is an 11-year-old stepping in (by then thawed) dog poop, not noticing, and tracking it through the house.

Yep, those were my first thoughts of the new year.  Nice, huh?

Somehow, I doubt I'm alone in this.  Like waking up when you turn sixteen or twenty-one (or forty), when you know everything is supposed to be different but don't really feel much changed from the day before, waking up on New Year's Day can be a little anticlimactic.  Especially at forty.  Oh, have I mentioned that I turned forty this year?  You begin the routine again.  Another day, another few piles to be picked up.  The only real excitement is knowing that at some point you will write 2013 on a check and have a good laugh.

But then something happened.  It began to snow.  I swear to you, I had just put the bag-o'-crap in the dumpster and closed the back gate behind me when perfect little light and fluffy dots began floating down from a gray sky.

Selfie with snow and dog bowl
"Well, that's something new," I thought.

And it was.  The fact is that there is something new every day, but sometimes I am so bogged down in the ordinary that I don't take any notice of the extraordinary.  When I got back inside, this idea found reinforcement in the daily verse I receive via email.  Paul reminds us that it isn't turning sixteen or twenty-one (or forty -- did I mention that I turned forty this year?) that guarantees a brand-new day.  It is putting aside a worldly point of view (being over cluttered with the mundane) and living in Jesus's example and grace (everything is refreshed).  It is loving God and loving others, especially those who are unloveable, and remembering that the Golden Rule is the umbrella for all other rules.

Just then, Nick came downstairs.  Neither of us had had our coffee yet, so the first thing he muttered was, "Is that your dog barking outside?"*  Seriously?!  I thought.  That's your lede on January 1?  Um... I mean the 2013 me would have thought something like that.  But since today is the opportunity to try something new, I summoned up all the pre-coffee love I could find and replied, "Happy New Year."  We both smiled.  Wow, I guess a gentle answer turns away not only the wrath of others but also the inner wrath of a wife who resents that she had to get up first to scoop poop.

Last night at dinner I told my kids that my new year's resolution was to stop interrupting people.  I've realized lately that what I used to think was a friendly gesture to help others find the right words when they are struggling to finish a sentence is really more indicative of my own impatience.  And rude.  And something I don't like when it's done to me.  So I'm not going to do it anymore.  But maybe that resolution can be a part of a greater mandate for 2014 -- to watch, listen, and recognize what's new (and quite possibly surprising) in daily life, in others, and through grace.  Happy New Year.


*It was my (our) dog barking.  She plays tetherball with herself and loves it so much that she makes noises like she's being beaten to death.  There's no way the person whose turn it is to stay in bed could possibly sleep in through the ruckus. But it's adorable, as you can see here. #obnoxiouspuppymom

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