Snapshot: My Lovely Saturday Night

“I’ll be taking wonderful care of you tonight,” my waiter said as he opened his notepad and readied his pen. My order was simple: water, lobster bisque, and biscuits. He dashed off to the kitchen, his feet almost as quick as his speech.

Alone with my thoughts, I took in my surroundings: the soft thump, thump, thump of the base drum on the radio, the low lighting creating an air of privacy, the Canadian man sitting behind me talking about his trip to Florida. A baby cried in an adjacent room. Nearby, some servers gathered around one of the cash registers to share a joke. I wondered if anyone would find it strange for a woman to eat dinner alone in a restaurant, but it didn’t seem to matter.

Wearing my new (to me) sweater and sporting a fresh haircut, I figured tonight was as much a night as any to celebrate. It had been awhile since I’d taken myself “out on a date,” and the gift card I had received gave me the perfect opportunity to do so. I would not look at my phone tonight. Instead, I savored the environment – the mainstream, commercialized bistro I had learned to love from childhood – and drew comfort from its familiarity. I basked in gratefulness for the beauty of these moments, moments I hadn’t experienced in a long time.

I had lost sight of something. Of myself. I had forgotten how nice it felt to do something special – by myself. Here, now, I could be fully present, and present I was – well, at least until I realized I had almost finished my soup. It was so good I nearly forgot to enjoy it. The bisque tasted like the sea and like a warm hug all at once, and the cheesy, buttery biscuits melted in my mouth.

I thought about how I had no one to talk to there, but I didn’t mind. My soul was content to rest and reflect and simply be, without having to focus on conversation. Sometimes loneliness is a beautiful thing.

The waiter gave me a small bag to pack up the extra biscuits; I gave him an extra tip for his sweet demeanor. My spirit was overflowing with joy from being fully alive and fully myself. It really was a quick supper – I was in and out in under and hour – but my heart was full. And so was my belly.

Creating an Ideal Day

I often think of things I wish I could accomplish in a given day if I could only muster the motivation to do them. Sometimes they are even things I enjoy doing but haven’t developed the discipline for turning them into regular habits. Therefore, I have decided to list tasks I would love to accomplish in my ideal day:

Write in my blog/practice writing in general
Read 50 pages or so in any given book
Devote time to a yoga practice
Practice harp/work on reading music
Draw
Work on quilt or some craft project
Write to a friend
Create (bake) something in the kitchen
Practice singing
Clean/organize something around the house
Devote time to spiritual reflection/reading/prayer
Bask in sunshine

Last year I had made a list of goals (resolutions, perhaps) which I did not accomplish in 12 months time, other than reading 15 books and cleaning out my car (for I had to get rid of it). This year I want to focus on furthering my self care routines. Since one of the most common New Year’s resolutions this year is to “become a better person,” which is ridiculously vague, I have decided to create my own goals to strive for and grow into.

My list above is not one I can realistically expect to complete daily; however, it helps to outline my ideal day. Because of this, I have something tangible to work toward in making every day an ideal day, whether I complete the list or not.

Quirky Christendom

Christianity is a weird religion. Traditionally speaking, you meet up with a group of people you don’t know on a Sunday morning, and you listen to someone speak. You sing a few songs, and then you leave. If you’re lucky, you might have a Bible study to go to during the week. But that’s about it. I guess what’s weird to me is that within Christianity, people seem to focus only on their spiritual health and not much else.

I’m thinking in contrast to other religions in which physical health, diet, and relationships are more of the focus. For example, when you think of certain Eastern religions, you may think of yoga, meditation, or certain dietary restrictions. While the main thing that sets Christianity apart from other religions is that it’s not a performance-based religion, sometimes I wonder if the Christian Church wouldn’t benefit from taking one’s overall well-being into consideration. The beauty of Christianity is that everyone is different, yes, and everyone is in a different point in their journeys. While spiritual health is very important, there are more dimensions of wellness than just spirituality.

You also have physical, emotional, financial, social, and environmental health. When one of these elements suffers, it can affect one’s overall well-being. I’m not saying that the Church should be responsible for everyone’s health in all aspects of life, but I think it would be cool if, when people heard the word “Christian,” they would think, “Oh yeah, Christians are some of the healthiest people I know.”

Then again, you don’t go the a bank in hopes they can help you with a broken arm, and you don’t go to a hospital to get a loan. So I guess these dimensions of wellness should be separate, it just seems strange to me.

I guess what I’m saying is, I want more people in general to care about their overall well-being, because I know how difficult it can be to do that. I’m still learning how to take care of myself in the most basic of ways, and I don’t really have anyone to teach me what a healthy adult is supposed to look like.

These are my thoughts for the day, so thanks for reading my tirade.