Remember back in the days before teh Headache, how Sue (our dear Inner Dorothy) used to paint a room every time she went on vacation? I was thinking about that when I painted E's room this weekend (Yellow and green, the colors of his somehow-mysteriously-selected Favorite Team. It turned out alright.)
But, anyway, as I was painting, I was thinking of Sue and of another very dear friend who's carrying a heavy load this week, and I remembered monks who dedicate their work, like it's prayer, which is something I've never done since work is a thing to get over quick, in my way of thinking. But since you cant really rush room painting, I tried it.
Every brush stroke, roller stroke, for my dear friend, and then for Sue, who is just struggling so badly right now and needs our fervent prayers, every one we can spare. Then for other things and people came to mind, and I prayed as thoughts rolled into my head. For Barack Obama that he not mess it up and get it messed up for him. For grandparents and aunties gathering at the lake. For all the far flung dear ones from many times and places who are being rediscovered on Facebook (including the husband of my college roomate in Chicago, who somehow knows a blog friend in Boston). For the all the children I know and love - my son, his cousins (including one on the way) and friends. For animals who need homes and for the people who love them. For the people of my church, one by one. For the ones who push my buttons and the ones who delight me without ceasing. For the medical professional whose response was "be careful" when I told her I would be painting this weekend. For (as I listened to the radio) the people of Knoxville. For more rain some places, for less other places. For peace. For healing and then back for Sue, and then for my dear dear friend.
It was a relief to find the wandering mind does not always have to wander into pitfalls of self loathing or irritation. Maybe the monks were on to something.
Also, unrelated, perhaps. We got 3/4 of a gallon of yellow paint for free, since is EXPLODED in the mixer at the hardware store! Maybe I could have prayed for the guy who had to clean all that up. So when we went to buy a ladder, I got the most expensive one - the super sturdy one that shows a picture of a 75 year old man changing light bulbs on the wrapper. Love the new ladder. I am now adding it to my list of
Things It's Not Worth Buying The Cheapest One Of:
What's on your list?