I’ve Got Six Finches on the Feeder!!

The egg’s yolks stared up at me from the pan, as I used my white rubber spatula to swirl them around mixing in the bits of cheese and the pat of delicious butter.  As the yolks broke and the colors began to mix, yellow and orange with white, my gaze seemed to be sinking into the mixture.  I could have traveled to another place.  A scrambled egg place, I thought. 

Fatigue nagged at my shoulders like a whining child, and the urge to just forget the eggs, forget the day and crawl back into bed was hard to deny.  Eat the eggs, I told myself.  You’ll feel better once you have some fuel. 

With Christmas over, New Year’s Eve behind us, I looked at the calendar and saw the date.  January 5, 2011.  Was there any significance?  Not really. 

Piling a mound of yellow on my plate, I grabbed the toast from the toaster and carefully distributed the butter, then slathered on the purple blueberry jam.  A new jar.  Something to be excited about, right?  My last jar was strawberry, so I was ready for a new flavor. 

Sitting down with a fork in one hand and the remote in the other, I flipped on the TV just in time to see the morning forecast.  Weather is exciting, right?  I waited to hear what adverse conditions were on their way to change up my day.  Would I be dodging white flakes as I ran in to work, or would I be high kneeing through drifts of snow? 

To my disappointment, the following week predicted was nothing but sunshine and cold.  Could that be any more boring?  I flipped the eggs around on my plate and munched on my crunchy, healthy, whole grain toast.  As I watched my breakfast disappear off my plate, I had to remind myself to taste it. 

What is it about the new year?  I do this every year.  It is like a huge let down.  I mean, first it is a relief.  The holidays are over. The pressure to perform, cook, entertain, plan, prepare and shop has been released.  I feel the valve hissing, and I can relax into my old routine.  Yet no sooner have I settled onto the couch with a book or my knitting, than I am wondering what to look forward to now.  

I think to myself that I must be in need of some mood lifting Vitamin D3.  Some artificial sunshine?  That might do it – a little anyway.  

Finding excitement in the day to day routine is a common challenge.  I watch as society searches for meaning.  As I drive past the YMCA, my husband’s favorite new hang out, I slow to see it has become a hub of people who are using the new year as motivation to make a change in their life.  The walking track is packed with walkers, and it becomes difficult to find an empty machine. The parking lot is too crowded, and I drive home to exercise in the solitude of my own home.   

Part of me feels that I should be joining the masses.  I wonder why a crowd turns me the other way instead of drawing me in.  Am I unsocial?  Should I be more social? What is it that makes others seek others, while I seek solitude?  But even the questions do not turn my car around.   

I become aware of the fact that I am forgetting to live in the moment.  I used to feel that if I didn’t have a lot of plans, or I didn’t have anything to look forward to, that my life must be pretty boring.  Thus, I must be a boring person.  And here I was, falling into that thought form again.  

I remind myself that I have come to a point in my life that I can be moved by a simple pretty stitch, watching the transformation as the verigated yarn forms a design in the scarf I am knitting, the pink in the sky behind me as I drive off to the west to work, the sound of the furnace on a quiet morning.  My son teases me, lovingly, that I am an “old” person, as I exclaim about how many finches I spy on my thistle feeder, or the Downey woodpecker on the feeder. 

I guess my real question to myself is why I let myself feel flawed by my appreciation of the small things in life.  It is the day to day wonders that make life worth living.  I mean, let’s face it, not many of us can finance constant entertainment.  Why not look around for the blessings that naturally surround us? 

High maintenance I am not.  A skydiving thrill seeker I will never be.  Happy to be alive and in love with life.  Yes.  That I am.  With this I not only embrace the moment, but I embrace me and feel grateful for who I am.   

Happy New Year! 


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