simplicity

last night my sister made me pasta with zucchini, basil, garlic, lemon juice, parmesan. it was superb.

what can I do? put me to work! I said, eager to chop some zucchini or stir some noodles. uh.. um… you can put water in this pot. and then, a timid, can you just sit on that chair and tell me about your day? I really want to make this for you. (not exact words, but exact sentiments) so I sat on the chair and rubbed the dog’s back with my foot and watched her cook me noodles and chop zucchini, and listened to the delicious sound of water boiling and zucchini frying. and it was soothing to my soul, to just sit, my chin resting on the edge of the tall chair listening and watching and knowing that my sister prepared this food that I choose because she loves me.

this morning I went for a walk because my soul was flustered. I walked through the cute neighborhood near my apartment building. I saw an old woman walking an old golden retriever. I stood directly beneath a robin and marveled at his belly. I looked up through the pine boughs at the blue sky. I listened to a cardinal’s sharp song and watched him at the top of a tree. I stopped to smell a yellow flower, stopped to stare at some purple ones. I looked at the toys left in backyards and old fences, beer cans left on porches and piles of unopened mail, recognized how this neighborhood is exactly the same as all the other countries and cities I’ve seen. I listened to birds chirping and dogs barking. I watched a pudgy squirrel sit in a basket of bird food filling his cheeks. I breathed. I longed. for how life is supposed to be. for where I was made to live. a place I have never been, but will be someday. I thought about where God will take this life.

mostly I breathed.

half an hour. and then I came home and the spring air had seeped into my soul so much I wanted to turn off the heat and open all the windows and doors- but it is only thirty-five degrees outside today. so I didn’t.

cut an apple instead, the juice splurting out all over my fingers, I marveled at my fingers and their ability to handle a knife. apples and caramel.

simplicity.