Day 100: The Wonder of Easter…And Spotting the Bunny on a Rock

Bennett is old enough to understand Easter this year. It’s a strange time to celebrate a holiday. But we are still talking about it and getting excited.

We haven’t been to the grocery store in a week or two and ordered grocery store pick up and they were out of ham. Normally, I’d drive around to different stores to get one. It’s a small tradition we adhere to. But I’m not sure about this year. We might be living off pasta.

In lieu of everything going strange in the world, Bennett and I like to get outside. On our walk, he stopped and pointed to a rock, and said, “Look, it’s the Easter bunny!” I turned my head, and there it was! I felt some magic and wonder on the 100th day of the year, the Easter spirit.

Day 37: Something About Mangoes

This is the title of an essay I workshopped in class tonight. It’s about mangoes and obsessions and grief. I find wonder in the mind’s ability to create ideas — for books, poems, essays. I was reminded of the wonder of that tonight. As well, I was reminded of the fact that most things need a revision.

It’s okay to find wonder in a revision. Whether that be a life or a creative piece. There is always room for improvement.

I think we get ideas from something other than us, and I like to give that credit to God. I enjoyed this post today from a pastor in San Diego:

Day 33: Super Bowl Play

When I was little I loved the Super Bowl because it gave me 4 uninterrupted hours to play with my friends. We used our imaginations and ran castles and pirate ships and went on Safaris. Sometimes we’d drop downstairs for some chips and dip or apple juice. The adults would be watching the game. Then it would be back to playing.

Tonight we invited our next door neighbors over to watch the Super Bowl and the wonder, for me, came from the anticipation and joy and delight in my son’s eyes awaiting to play. He waited out front then once the kids got here he showed them a new hot wheels course. Later in the night they made a fort in his old crib.

The crib was the safe place and the rest of the room was “lava” and it was that moment I remembered all the “lava” of my youth and wondered: when did the lava stop? I’m going to work on imagining lava spilling around me, again. More fun that way.