Sitting at my computer drinking carrot juice, trying to compensate for lack of good eating habits in recent days. In the next room, the "Soup Nazi" episode of Seinfeld is on. To avoid trouble when ordering soup, Jerry gives this advice to his friends who are there for the first time: "Keep the line moving." (Probably not a bad idea for many life situations?) Elaine messes up, of course, telling the owner he looks like Al Pacino in "Scent of a Woman" and is banished from the shop for one year ("No soup for you!")........I'm reflecting on yesterday when I began the day suggesting that one should look for beauty during the day. The day was cause for reflection in this regard because at the end of the day I realized that I had completely forgotten to keep my eyes open for beauty. Oops. Instead, I had become very tied up in the production aspect of work and in various and sundry disappointments that, I admit, ended up bringing tears to my eyes by the time the sun was starting to set.
One of the disappointments was that my son's soccer team lost a crucial game in their conference tournament. Certainly not one of the great tragedies of life, but enough to prick the heart of a mom as she's watching her high school senior run his heart out back and forth across the field....And so I am retroactively visiting the day for signs of beauty.
There were several episodes of beauty of spirit. One was when a work colleague--in the midst of a crazy busy day for her--paused to offer me words of nonwork-related grace and kindness completely out of the blue. Beauty in my colleague and her words. Another was when I had a phone meeting with a client and heard him on the other end of the phone going through an issue in detail because he cared deeply that the finished product was absolutely correct. Beauty in his integrity and the workings of his mind. Another was when I had tea with a new friend. Beauty in her resiliency and optimism during a hard move and her openness toward letting someone new into her life. Also beauty in her grace in that she didn't seem to see my sink full of unwashed dishes as we stood in my kitchen drinking our second cups of Earl Gray. There were several episodes of physical beauty as well. My new friend and I drank tea out of lovely blue and white cups from Sweden, which my mother gave me. The colored leaves on the trees along the soccer field were incredible. And of course, the beauty of the soccer players' foot work and running strides was a sight to behold. Retroactive beholding of beauty, but beauty observed, nonetheless.