I'm having a hard time coming up with titles, lately--blogging, poetry, even Facebook status--and I don't know why. But that's ok. I'll probably be struck with an enormous flash of inspiration sometime soon, and titles will be practically gushing out of my ears. I'll want to write things, just so I can use a creative title.
[EDIT: I started this post with the title "hello," but it's become slightly more interesting since then. Perhaps the enormous flash of inspiration is already headed my way? I certainly hope so.]
Anyway...I had a really good day today. My biology test was unexpectedly postponed. I got to run the concession stand instead of going to study hall. We're reading a very fascinating book in English, Milton's Paradise Lost, and I am really enjoying it.
All that aside...it would have been a good day anyway, I think. God is teaching me that every day is a good day. After all, His mercies are new every morning!
The determining factor between a good day and a bad day lies in my attitude. Will I thank God for even the little things? Will I allow the things that don't go my way to affect my attitude? Will I look at the leftover mudpuddles or the blue sky? Will I hear negativity or birdsong? Will I enjoy the everyday things, will I see education as a privilege or as a prison sentence?
All it boils down to is knowing that every single day is a precious gift from God. I love the quote from Kung Fu Panda where Master Oogway tells Po this: "There is a saying: yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift. That is why it is called the 'present.' " I know that sounds cliche, but it's true. And while I have memories and lessons learned from the past and hopes and dreams for the future, I want to live every day with joy. Because life is short. God's gifts are always there. He's always good. I want to live with my eyes open to see that every day.
I came across a poem by Theodore Roethke the other day that I really liked. Here it is:
ROOT CELLAR
Theodore Roethke
Nothing would sleep in that cellar, dank as a ditch,
Bulbs broke out of boxes hunting for chinks in the dark,
Shoots dangled and drooped,
Lolling obscenely from mildewed crates,
Hung down long yellow evil necks, like tropical snakes.
And what a congress of stinks!--
Roots ripe as old bait,
Pulpy stems, rank, silo-rich,
Leaf-mold, manure, lime, piled against slippery planks.
Nothing would give up life:
Even the dirt kept breathing a small breath.
________________________________
English class has definitely taught me to read poetry thoroughly. So I pondered this. I love the way that the plants in the cellar keep growing, even through the wet, cold, smelly, darkness. They keep growing and reaching for light ("chinks in the dark") and they don't give up. "Even the dirt kept breathing a small breath." That's the way I want to be, growing and very much alive even in the midst of real life, which is rarely easy.
Now that I've inadvertently managed to make the same point in so many different ways, I suppose I could talk about something else...
My favorite part of today was working at the concession stand with my friend. We laughed a lot and did our homework and shared a bag of M&M's, which we sorted by color, arranged in geometric patterns, and ate in order, saving the green for last because we agree that they are definitely the best. In my humble opinion, sorting and arranging the M&M's is more than half the fun.
I didn't go home today from school because I wanted to come to the basketball games tonight. So I'm going to go do my homework while I wait. Maybe I can get ahead so I won't have as much tomorrow.
That's all for now...
Life is good. God is better.
No comments:
Post a Comment