The first Monday in January is its own kind of beginning. The holiday season is behind us (almost—tomorrow, Epiphany, wraps it up), and we resume our regularly scheduled programming. My calendar is already peppered with things this week. Gerry’s off to the fitness center this morning while I return to routine at home, and we’ll both go to yoga after lunch. It will feel so good to be back on the mat.
Early, while it was still dark, and I was the only one awake in the house, I picked up Marie Howe’s New and Selected Poems, one of a few poetry books beside my reading chair. Her poem “The Star Market” (you can read it here) was kind of a gut punch, the way good poems sometimes are, and I was inspired to write one of my own.
Open Door after Marie Howe Someone Jesus loves closed the bathroom door while I was sleeping, and I walked smack-dab into it, stumbling, eyes mostly closed, needing an antacid from the extra value sized bottle (do we still call it a bottle if it’s plastic?) I leave on the counter at all times. Oof. The word burst from between my lips. Thanks be to God, I was still in dream state so no profanity accompanied it. Just a grunt of surprise and a flicker of exasperated annoyance. The next morning, I was only half-joking when I told the one Jesus is especially fond of that he was forevermore banned from touching my bathroom door, but as I think about it now, I wonder if we each felt some kind of power come out of it.
And so, we’re off and, hopefully, not running (unless that’s your thing), in this shiny new year. Be kind to one another, friends. Grant grace when warranted. (I know, it’s hard. I’m not good at it either. See the title of this post.)