The Largess of the Tiny

A day off from teaching and taking classes normally finds me, weather permitting, on the deck out back with a cup or three of coffee. This morning was one of those perfect pre-fall days--breezy enough to use it as an excuse to bring a blanket out along to snuggle in an over-sized lawnchair while reading, writing, and watching the aerial antics of the beloved hummingbirds.
Small creatures, they bring a largess of enjoyment.
I look up at the feeder periodically to see two quietly sitting; instantaneously, the duo rises to three, four, five, six...as many as twelve, darting and shifting, snatching a few seconds at the small bars to have a sip of nectar. Pairs entwine themselves in a circular flight up in the air, and then dramatically dive back down to recover from the tailspin at the last possible second. Others start a pattern of flying in a large "u" shape repeatedly, twittering each time they reach the upper peaks of the formation.
One small female in particular flies over within a foot of me periodically and hovers for a bit; I acknowledge her presence with a hello. I have a feeling she's drawn to my "comforter of many of colors" as much as she is my personality. Nevertheless, she returns much as a small child does having a ball gaining recognition from an adult, running back and forth and happily anticipating that next hello.
As I sit on the deck, I hear in the immediate background the familiar sounds of a combine, a tractor, and a grain cart being shuffled about in preparation to open a field for harvest. There's a slight sense of resignation that accompanies these sounds; I know that harvest means fall, and though a wondrous time of the year in southern Indiana, it marks the beginning of some endings--among them the realization sometime in the near future when I am sitting on the deck with no company of these tiny marvelous birds. They'll be on that mind-boggling flight across great bodies of water to a warmer clime. 
But that's not today; no, today they are fascinating. So, like these tiny creatures that bring with them a largess of joy, living for the moment of that next pirouette or sip of lovely nectar, I'm going to live in the moment and not miss out on any opportunities or discoveries today has to offer.
I hope you will enjoy the day, too.


Have a fine day indeed.

When Bad Habits Can Do Good Things

Last Friday I made a suggestion to my friends on FaceBook that we all take the money collected from our Bad Habit Jars for a week and give to UNICEF earmarked for Somalia. Secretly, I hoped for all of us to be particularly naughty in our bad habits in order to fill the jar sufficiently. I'm thinking I can do about 20 dollars worth of damage.


And just what are bad habits? Given enough philosophical minds sitting around with an ample supply of coffee or brandy, the discussion could go on for quite some time. Note* At this juncture there is probably some descent in the ranks pointing out that ample coffee and/or brandy might be considered bad habits in and of themselves...I'll leave that one alone since I happen to think both are lovely habits indeed. 


But I digress...


Are bad habits hurtful or just annoying? There seems to need to be a chasm between the two. Popping chewing gum, chewing on fingernails, cracking knuckles and the like used to be the bad habits to avoid as I was growing up. I believe times have changed. I seldom see (or perhaps notice) these annoying habits anymore, albeit I did have a short encounter with a gum popper a few months back. Yep...still annoying. But just that--annoying. Not really bad.


The true bad habits that are hurtful are those that require deeply thought-out excuses. The "I can't help that person because he/she will only fall back into disrepair once I stop" excuse as well as the "If you give them a little money you know what he/she will do with it" excuse. And there is reason in this...to an extent. Yes, a single-solitary attempt in isolation to help someone in dire need will likely fall short. It takes commitment. It does sometimes take a village. Perhaps the bad habit lies in not trying at all for fear of failing. Handing cash to someone who knowingly has great difficulties in managing cash isn't the greatest idea. Maybe hand them food, clothing, shelter, or an ear instead? 


None of us want to be bad with our habits. But at sometime each of us find ourselves giving up before we start, repeating once again that tried-and-true definition of stupidity: Doing the same thing over and over again, hoping for different results. 


Perhaps not thinking things through or not thinking things through differently is our greatest bad habit...


Good people do good things; good people also lose sleep at night in concern for others. Most people are good people. But we need lots more good people thinking outside  that proverbial box.


So, until Friday of this week, unleash those bad habits and fill those jars. Treat it as one would loading up on every lousy food choice out there before attempting a strict diet. The jar needs to runneth over.


Then, on Saturday, once the donation has been made to these less fortunate to the nth degree folks in Somalia, start daring yourself to defy the bad habit of atrophy. Take a chance--say hello to someone that might be a little odd; write thinking of you cards to folks in the nursing home and become that pen pal; really ask that person you're concerned about what you can do to help; ask someone to church, house meeting, our meditation circle. Stick a toe outside that box. Is it taking a chance? You bet. Might you not get the result you hope for? Quite possibly. Will you feel exhilarated as a result? Absolutely.


Maybe with all this creative thinking, we won't need to keep our jars for starving people; maybe we'll get lots of messes lined out and, more than likely, won't have time to ponder a bad habit--just a couple of annoying ones for sport.


Have a fine day.