Once I was in the basement, near the mirrors. It’s even better because I wasn’t, like, seven years old when this happened. This was, like, last year. 2014.
It was the morning, Saturday morning, and I was like, “I know what time it is…INTERPRETIVE DANCE TIME.” So then I think I went with a good default for interpretive dance: velociraptor, in front of the mirrors, in the basement.
Mind you, there was no music to this. Only soul. Here I was, silently recreating velociraptor movements in a mirror using only my mind and my imagination. Ar rawr rawr.
And then I was like, “Wow, I wonder if I can walk in very slow and exaggerated movements. This is an excellent experiment of how my body works.”
So then I was moving in slow motion, lifting my legs/ my knees high into the air, stepping long and wide and reacting through my spine when I realized…one of my brother’s friends was right there. ON. THE. COUCH. Lying there, freshly awoken by a me, re-enacting velociraptor movements and slow and deliberate walking patterns all across my basement.
So then I said nothing except a breathless, “OhmygoshI’msorry,” before running up the stairs.
And then it was super NOT-AWKWARD (cough cough cough) when he came upstairs and I was like, “Oh, hey, Kiko, don’t mind me, um, do you want some breakfast or something?”
(And, honestly, he was like, “I didn’t notice anything, Nell,” which was too kind of him).
I feel like getting back into this blog is like me pretending to walk over-exaggerated and silly; like, “How do I do this, again? Is this right? Oh, don’t mind me as I interrupt your life, as you lie there on the couch.”
But, here we are.
I did so many things, you guys.
Visitors came and I went on retreat and I made so many crafts and there were gifts and food and games and so many blessed Christmas things.
I will tell you four things, and then I will go to bed. For it is late and there are still many things to do, and this is me stretching back into a routine.
- There was a wonderful priest on the retreat, a priest who was a friend of Mother Teresa (and he dropped this like it was NO BIG DEAL. But, come on, man). Once Mother T. asked him to teach her a prayer on her ten fingers, to help her remember. With the help of the Holy Spirit (and a little bit of editing by Mother Teresa!) this is what they ended with:
Mother Mary, pray your Fiat and Magnificat in my heart.
- Our friend, Mike, (up top), said this of my family: “You guys are like Traverse City. People know it works…but no one is sure how,” and I just think that’s funny and brilliant and I kind of want to make some wall art of that for my mom; but she’ll just be like, “What is this even about, child?” and explaining jokes is hard. (Ask me about my earliest childhood memory sometime, ACTUALLY).
- Today was a roller coaster of emotions kind of day. Coming back to work, dealing with the angry/ wounded public…you know. The usual. Only, with a few weeks of break in a monastery, I kind of softened a little bit. Nothing beyond the assistance of some sacramental grace, though, and I went to mass and now I’m at home in my circus-y clothes, doing crafts and ready to stretch and this is what I’m excited about: the one billion ideas I have for 2015. Stay posted. Please, do.
I was ultra-ultra touched by the people I encountered over break who told me they read these thoughts. Thanks, friends. There will be more coming at you these next few days, and I want more and more for 2015. Thanks be to God.
Walking Like A Velociraptor
P.S. Monthly ukulele singalongs posted on Mondays? Good idea or no. I EARNESTLY have no scale for judging the validity of any of my ideas in real life, let alone my virtual life. Again, Velociraptors R us.