There’a a little beauty parlor on Somerville Avenue that’s hung some cheesy, glittery Christmas ornaments in its large, plate glass front window. Feeling glum a couple of days ago, I’d walked past that window just as the morning sun struck those ornaments. And the world—at least my teeny part of it—was transformed.
OK, I thought. Instead of viewing the asphalt and concrete and heavy traffic of Somerville Avenue as portents of doom and destruction (which is what I’d been doing), maybe I should instead look for something that speaks to the GLORY of my species.
And, immediately, there it was: the brand-new bike lanes of Somerville Avenue. Truly, those lanes are a miracle, a gigantic break-through, yes? (Unfortunately, there were no riders on the bike lane when I had this revelatory moment. That would have made this Ah HAH perfectly cinematic!)
As somebody noted at yesterday’s meeting for worship—which preceded Friends Meeting at Cambridge’s always tear-producing Christmas pageant—when the Holy family knocks on the door of that crowded Bethlehem inn, it’s a “metaphor” for letting in light/joy/wonder/God. We get to choose if we open that door.
And how often.
christmas decorations in a store window and urban bike lanes. what a beautiful world!
I sleep in the disheveled St.Vincent’s Hostel.Every monring, I shamble across Magazine Street to Mojo for a coffee and the Times-Picayune…I finish reading my paper.I never finish drinking my coffee.Large, medium, small…I carry my half cup of java around the neighborhood, passing through Coliseum Park.I use the same overstuffed trash can every monring.Before tucking my spent cup in the trash can’s full mouth,I dump half a cup of coffee onto the grass first…I read the newspaper on Magazine Street.I water the grass in Coliseum Park with coffee.New Orleans,I love your landscape and Mojo.
An excellent ritual (and I happen to be a Quaker who really appreciates ritual). Reminds me of the Native American ritual of tossing tobacco onto the ground to bless the earth.
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