“Ten times a day something happens to me like this – some strengthening throb of amazement – some good sweet empathic ping and swell. This is the first, the wildest and wisest thing I know: that the soul exists and is built entirely out of attentiveness.” — Mary Oliver
You would think that the continuing saga of potty training our youngest sir (Bogey – he with the bladder of a peanut and a vacant scare which may not bode well for his aptitude), would leave me somewhat compromised in terms of fodder for posts dealing with anything other than the delight and frustration of puppyhood. Given that my travels are limited to two and half hour intervals, it is true that I haven’t seen much other than what is going on in my kitchen. But I’m here to tell you, there’s a lot of amazing that happens here.
Bonnie, the remarkable creator of paperkeeper.wordpress.com was here for a couple of days and in effect, holed up in the kitchen with me for the majority of her visit. True, a better host would have planned sightseeing expeditions in and around D.C. (she left the day of the government shutdown); I invited her to walk up and down the driveway. And having her here was an experience in amazement. Amazement that we started talking at Union Station on Sunday evening and didn’t stop until we said good-bye at Dulles airport. That the kitchen became the haven for stories sad and delightful, evocative memories and whispered hopes. There was no better place to be to explore the reality of a friendship that started with imagined dimensionality created by our words and email conversations. I could listen and see and ask and think and travel around years of Bonnie’s life and she let me be amazed. We laughed and considered and opined and let the comfort of the kitchen make all of that conversation safe. It was a joy to have her here and to realize as I sit here today, that I had so much wonder going on around me. Perhaps therein is the kernel of truth – any moment which is attended to with sensibilities focused contains far more amazement than we might think.
I will leave Bonnie’s travels to Bonnie – for it is her story to tell. And she tells it like no one else. I for one have to go walk the pup.
Waiting for the Karma Truck 