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Rediscover wonder
Note from Terry…
You never know when you'll find the opportunity to pause... and the space for gratitude, wonder, sanctuary, renewal, balance and delight. So be on the lookout... every day.Sabbath Moment
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About Terry
Vashon Island,
Seattle, Washington
Terry Hershey is an author, humorist, inspirational speaker, dad, ordained minister, golf addict, and smitten by French wine. He divides his time between designing sanctuary gardens and sharing his practice of “pausing” and “sanctuary,” to help us do less and live more... read more
In my winter garden–now sodden and weary–a visitor said to me, “There’s not much to see here, is there?” “True,” I told him, “But it all depends on what you are looking for.”
For if you look up, you will see the filigreed canopy created by our 150-foot cedar tree. Or off to the side, notice the mottled rust bark of our native madrone tree, revealing, like shedding skin, a trunk with the polished gleam of a cinnamon swizzle stick. Or admire the dark, rich green of our native yew, covered with red-hot tinged berries resembling miniature pitted olives. Which is all well and good, except that the disappointment is real, and you find yourself wishing you could make it up to anyone disappointed. We soooo want the garden–like life–to indulge and thrill us nonstop, we miss the obvious fact that gardens need winter just to catch their breath.
And here’s the deal: when we always (and only) demand the theatrical, we miss beauty and magic in the subtle, the inconsequential and the ordinary.
Last week, while in Bordeaux, France, I wrote about rediscovering wonder in my Sabbath Moment.
Yesterday I was struck by the need to write something meaningful. But nothing came to mind, so I slipped out onto the patio with a baguette and a plate of rillettes and pate, and a St. Emilion Bordeaux wine. (I try to live by the motto that’s there’s nothing a picnic can’t fix.) Near my patio drapes a Kiwi vine. The vine is leafless on this winter day, with some fruit still clinging, dogged on the vine. I watch a young woman, with a spoon in hand, peeling the fruit to taste it, giddy at the discovery of real kiwi — “the first time I’ve seen kiwi outside of a store,” she tells me. Her sense of being “surprised by wonder” is contagious, and brings to mind a Mary Oliver poem.
My friend and I are staying in a chateau near Baruch, south of Bordeaux. On this Sunday, I sit on the small patio outside our apartment. The stone wall stands cragged and etched and clothed in moss. The sun soothes and blesses. It is a rare day in January with a blue sky bleached of any rich or subtle hues. I get up from my chair and begin to walk along small roads bracketed by slopes of grape vines. . .
In the “what’s new” department, please celebrate winter and enjoy my garden, or check out the PAUSE REMINDER for Today on Facebook. And tell a friend. Here’s one from this week:
PAUSE REMINDER for Today: I’ve always believed that a bench (or Adirondack chair) is the first and most important element of a garden, even if we are reluctant to use it. Sitting and seeing–I guess it takes practice. I’m with Mirabel Osler, “Sitting in your garden is a feat to be worked at with unflagging determination and single-mindedness–for what gardener worth his salt sits down. I am deeply committed to sitting in the garden.” Yes, even in winter.