| Sunny Side Up April 14, 2004 �2004, Kathleen Gibson Make time to stand and stare Sleeping past six is impossible when the sun gets up at four or some ungodly hour. It's nearly noon now. In the last half-dozen hours, I've gotten ready for the day, made my bed, waved the Preacher off, and sorted my mail. I've also massaged the cat with a rubber glove to keep the fur tumbleweed down, let out the dog, written ten emails and scanned 302 Web pages searching for two small facts. Somewhere in there I ate a bowl of bean salad. Nevertheless, in three hundred and sixty minutes, I feel like I've accomplished exactly nothing. Urgency eats at me. A list at my elbow dictates that I have eleven things on my agenda, and I haven't finished one. Outside my office window the sky's broad face is freckled with clouds-downy white on azure blue. Crows call, seagulls wheel. Budding willow branches dance twig to twig with elm and maple. A squirrel leaps between trees, but an early robin, perched on a branch near the window, hasn't budged for some time. He keeps peering in at me, intrigued, it seems, by indoor life. But from my side of the glass, life out there seems blissfully uncomplicated. I just want to look and look. I remember a pressed-flower plaque hanging in a friend's house. Surrounding a bouquet of pressed garden flowers, neatly penned calligraphy poses the question, "What is this life, if full of care, we have no time to stand and stare?" Funny. I made that plaque myself, years ago. Nostalgia for seasons of sun-filled days, when I frequently took time to pick flowers and make beautiful things, nearly overcomes me. I look again at the list. Write next column. Finish magazine article. Start next book chapter. Continue prepping for speaking engagements. Write letter to India. Design publicity flyer for a church function. Call David to wish him H.B. Finish photo cards. Mail parcel to Ron. Meet with Elaine. FINISH LAUNDRY�.. I stare back at the robin staring in at me. Do robins get busier too, when their kids leave the nest? I ask. And remember a song my mother sang often when I was a child�.. Said the robin to the sparrow, "I should really like to know, why those busy human beings, rush about and worry so." Said the sparrow to the robin, "Do you think that it could be, that they have no Heavenly Father, such as cares for you and me?" Yes, Bright-eyes, I say aloud. I know about him. But some days are like this, you see, behind people's glass. We forget that he made us human beings, not human doings. We stare at each other for a good ten minutes, that red-breast and I, before he flies off. I type furiously for a while, then look back at my list. Cross off 'write next column.' And thank my Heavenly Father for reminding me that sometimes important things are accomplished by taking time to stand and stare. You can respond to this column at [email protected] |
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