Morning conversation with Humility and Perspicacity

I am still not sure how to pronounce perspicacity.  She was a surprise breakfast guest this morning.  Humility has a regular chair at the table these days.

I sit with Humility and Perspicacity

This morning.

Humility drinks herbal tea.

Perspicacity likes coffee black.

Me?

Black coffee with a generous dollop

Of cream.

Humility and Perspicacity both

Are dressed for breakfast

And beyond.

Me?

I made it out of bed

Accomplishment in itself.

I sit in pajamas,

Notice the lawn care people

Already at work

In the neighborhood.

I consider rejuvenating

My high school knowledge of Spanish.

Humility suggests I consider

The room upstairs,

The room that will host

Our exchange student

Next Saturday.

Perspicacity  offers the possibility

Of one step at a time.

She attends AA meetings,

Likes to consider

The next right thing.

I wonder

Do these women always

Live into their names?

When Perspicacity appeared

I had to look up the meaning of her name.

Humility was an easy one.

She shows up regularly.

The next right thing is breakfast.

Humility eats oatmeal.

With Perspicacity

It depends on the day.

Me?

I eat a bowl of Honey Bunches of Oats

With Almonds,

Pour myself another cup of coffee

With a dollop of cream.

More hot water, another tea bag

For Humility;

For Perspicacity

A warmer of black coffee.

Is it spring yet?

There are more signs of spring around.  Unlike last year, with an unseasonably early spring, this one feels unseasonably late.  I complained last year too, sure that the earliness meant unknown repercussions for the rest of the year.  Today there are a few buds.  The rhubarb has poked its head through the soil.  The clematis has not yet dared to consider vining.  I wonder if the lateness will bring unknown repercussions for the rest of the year.

Today the sky

Is still gray

But more leaf buds

Emerge.

Soon enough

Ok maybe not soon enough

It will be full on

Spring.

This is the way

It always goes

Even when I forget,

Reminders come full force

Every year

Long about this time

Though of course

I would prefer those reminders

Still earlier.

Disappointment for breakfast

This morning I am skipping the Thursday work-out and sitting with disappointment for breakfast.  She may have a thing or two to teach me.  What exactly, I have no idea.  That*s why I need to pay attention.

I vowed to make friends

With Disappointment,

Pour her a cup of coffee

At the breakfast table,

Exchange sections of the morning paper,

Sit and make morning chit-chat,

Watch the back lawn

Grow greener.

Her face looks like a prune.

She needs more than a laugh

Or two.

I wonder

Which comic strip

Appeals to her sense of humor?

Does she even have

A sense of humor?

Is it dark or silly?

Does she see the oddness

In my asking?

Which cereal would she like

Topped with strawberries?

One or two servings of fruit

Is a good way

To start the day.

Even for someone

Named Disappointment.

Does her name

Cause her distress?

What were her parents thinking?

Whatever were they thinking?

She sits across from me

In her mismatched PJs

Uncombed hair.

Let me warm up your cup of coffee

I say.

Let me give you a warmer.

Open doors and windows

Almost three weeks since a wonderful job interview but no news.  So I called to find out.  I had pretty much figured the answer was no.  My interviewer answered the phone... herself.  Even though HR was supposed to contact me... they didn*t.  This is not a new experience.  I could have let the door stay closed.  I have done that before.   I counseled a client this week to open the door of the literal room he needs to paint, so he could see it when he passes by, and not pretend it wasn*t there.  
We all have such closed doors.  Sometimes we have closed windows. 

Never know what you*ll see

When you open those doors

Or windows:

Literal doors and windows

Or even

The figurative ones.

Never know what will

Blow through:

Soft spring breezes

Gale force winds.

It is much neater

To keep them closed.

The furniture stays upright.

Rain doesn*t blow in.

Things stay dry.

It is so much neater

To keep the doors and windows closed.

Never know what you*ll see

With open windows,

Open doors.

Is it me?

I attended a ministry and mental health conference yesterday.  It was wonderful in so many ways.  Most all the materials were available in English and Spanish.  The speaker I was dreading was bright, accessible and funny.  The workshop leader was very good.  I talked with a classmate from Wheaton I have not seen since graduation.  We compared notes and shared experiences.  I suspect both of us have grown leaps and bounds since graduation.  Who knew?  I saw change all around me with a capital C.

I see Change

With a capital C.

All I can say is

Wow.

The Christian conference

I attended yesterday

Was amazing.

As often happens

I was probably

The lone Episcopalian.

Often I feel like

An anthropologist.

I try to learn the customs

From outside in,

Inside out.

I strive to place my preconceived notions

Of the main speaker,

The particular workshops

On hold.

So I can hear.

So I can see.

So I can perhaps learn

Something different.

I claim not to ride in

On a white or black horse.

Certainly

No Tonto.

Last year I sat with

The other Episcopalian.

This year I see change

With a capital C.

Beyond anthropology

I see kinfolk.

Wow.

Is it me or them

Or was there never any real difference

In the first place?

If not forsythia, what?

Always we wait.  Most often we seem to miss what is already here.

We still wait for forsythia,

The rhubarb barely present

At the end of the garden bed.

Last year it was half grown by now.

This year is nothing

Like last year.

Still we always wait

For something

Just around the corner.

There is always something

To wait for

Even while something

Is always here,

Waiting to be discovered.

If not forsythia

What?

Warmer spring rain

When my daughter wants to go early to school, I drive her there and am enough awake to stay up when I return home.  The house is quiet.  This is my favorite time to write.  Today spring is more than a possibility.  The rain softens things.  It invites new growth.  It amplifies the sound of trains.  It brings out hope in birdsong.      Me too.

Today may well be a day

To bask

In warmer spring rain.

When I drove my girl

To school

It was 45 degrees.

Newly awake

I tried to change the outside temperature

On the car dashboard.

If all goes as promised

The weather will achieve

The 60*s by afternoon.

Quite an accomplishment

I say out loud

To no one in particular,

My beloved and the cat

Sound asleep upstairs.

What do they know now

Except a warm bed?

I listen to the train.

It is always louder

When it runs on wet tracks.

Today is a day

To bask in warm spring rain