Some mornings, I find that I am extra aware of the colors and shapes around me.
This morning, was one of those mornings.
Light through the blinds,
cast across the kitchen walls,
in this almost magical way.
It was silent. And so still.
When I catch these moments of deep stillness, I feel so lucky.
Most of the time, life swirls and bubbles with frenzy.
And sometimes I wish it was the other way around …
That stillness was the norm instead of busy.
And yet … busy is where I thrive.
Or …
Do I simply think that because of the culture I live in?
So much of the American way is to dream of more, work for it, achieve, be on top (I mean, except for those Americans who think they’re entitled without effort.). So much of the Mormon way (by the way, I am) is to become. So much of the female way is seeing where we still need to improve.
And I don’t think there’s anything wrong with any of that. But I wonder … is the reason there is such a growing population of people who feel dissatisfied with life, because we’re led to believe that we’ll be happy once we’ve “arrived?” When really–satisfaction comes from being totally entrenched in, grateful for, and aware of every molecule of a moment?
Some cultures are so much better at being present, I think. Wherever present is. Whatever present means.
But stillness, I believe, is found in presence. Even when things aren’t still.
Like the eye of a hurricane.
And yet, I often find myself filling it with the radio, or television, or words.
Avoiding the still spot completely.
I found myself staring at the handle of my mug for quite a while as I perched at the kitchen counter drinking my morning concoction.
Tracing it with my finger.
Such a lovely shape,
that handle,
the way it rises and falls,
curves and dips.
Like the right half of a heart.
Five minutes ago I had the urge to paint myself with glitter.
And not just with some subtle glitter powder from the make-up aisle.
I’m talking, I wanted a paintbrush, and some glue, and tubes of glitter from the craft store to swirl (in large amounts) on my face.
I’m all about the glitter these days.
Apparently.
We have orange and brown glitter balls hanging in our windows as part of the Thanksgiving decor.
(Does the fact that I laugh every time either one of us–Frit or I–says “glitter balls” make me a twelve year old boy? Don’t answer that.)
And I really really want to get invited to a fancy shmancy New Year’s Eve party so I can wear this gold glitter dress. (Because I have an extra $500 laying around. Not.)
And I’m loving glittery eye-shadow lately. A lot. 
I also have a date tonight and I really want to paint my nails with glitter for the occasion.
Speaking of glitter … I love this music video/song:
