Ordinary Time



On the liturgical calendar, the time between the Christmas season and the Lenten season is referred to as Ordinary Time. It's a period when there are no special periods of celebration or commemoration. It could be looked upon as a time between feasting and fasting, a time to catch our breath.

Yet all time is holy, all time is extra-ordinary. Each day is amazing if we have eyes to see and ears to hear. The poet Mary Oliver has a recipe for life: "Pay attention. Be amazed. Tell about it." Much of her poetry is about nature and animals that she has taken time to observe. How often we walk through our days in a haze, missing the beauty that surrounds us, passing by people without seeing them.

I have a painting of pears in a bowl on a table hanging above my computer. but I do not notice it unless someone admires it or I look up deliberately. Then I see the delicate shading, the stems with varicolored leaves, the folds of the white tablecloth reflecting the color of the pears. This is an ordinary painting, not a masterpiece, yet it is amazing.

How much more dazzling is Monet's water lilies, Handel's "Messiah," Gregorian chant, or the "Swan Lake" ballet. Or even simple things like a baby's first step, a well-honed speech, a Special Olympics feat, or a marching band. Beauty surrounds us if we are aware.

Time becomes more precious, more extraordinary, as we grow older. When we realize this may be the last time we see this lake, this mountain, this field, this person, we begin to take extra notice. But of course we are not always conscious of how fleeting time is. We take too much of our world for granted and think it will always be there.

So awaken to ordinary time and don't let it slip away without being amazed. Then don't keep it a secret. Tell others about the wonders you see and hear!





Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Image
  Limping to God I come to you, God, weather-beaten and limping, asking for forgiveness for all the times I have failed to be faithful and attentive to all those around me, especially the elderly who have run the race, the poor, the lonely and abandoned, who need my care and concern.     Is there any hope for these old bones? What will it take to change my limp into a surge of energy and a ready step? Teach me to become more caring, more responsive, more aware. Give me eyes to see and the will to act on my good intentions.   Water my dried up spirit and shriveled body, expand my shrunken heart. Give me eyes to see what you are leading me to do even as my bones creak and my legs become unsteady. Make me remember that I am here to serve, to listen, to be ready to be your hands and feet today.   Barbara Mayer, OSB    
Read more
Image
    “Wonderfully Made” When I took a college English course, our first assignment was to write an essay about whether we would rather lose our sight or lose our legs. It was a thought-provoking choice. If we became blind, we would miss seeing our loved ones and all the beauty of our world. If we could not walk, we would be hindered from traveling and moving around without help. I chose to keep my eyesight since I love to read and write and enjoy the variety and beauty that surrounds us.   Of course, I’m glad I didn’t have to make that choice in real life, but it was a thought-provoking assignment. It made me think about how much we take our bodies for granted. I began to think about all the organs, veins, arteries, canals, nerves, and bones we have in our bodies and how they all work together to keep us alive and healthy. It is not until we lose one of them that we realize how magnificent we are, created in the “image and likeness of God.” God loves each and every one of us as if
Read more
Image
  Overcoming Discouragement Sometimes discouragement and failure take over our lives, and we cannot seem to crawl out of our hole. Even if in reality they are not a true picture, we can be blinded by the seeming darkness.  It often takes another person to uncover what is hidden from us and to see through the cloudy picture.  I am reminded of a story about Bill Wilson, the founder of Alcoholics Anonymous. He tells of how he felt his dream of starting a group for people with drinking problems was not going anywhere. Then unexpectedly Father Dowling, a disheveled priest, came to his door in the middle of a snowstorm. Bill’s caretaker told him that a “damn bum” was at the door. Bill was tired but agreed to see him and in doing so had his “second conversion experience.” Bil and Father Dowling talked way into the night, and Bill told of his “high hopes and plans, and spoke about his anger, despair and mounting frustrations.”  It turned out that the elderly priest had had similar feel
Read more