I was recently gifted a handless mug.
The couple who gave it to me had been on vacation in Europe, and during one of their shopping excursions, they spied the mug.
“We have to get this for Shawn,” they thought.
This husband and wife know orange is my favorite color. I have a “carrot cake orange” accent wall painted in my office. Chairs. Lampshades. Books. Water bottles. Shoes. Clothes. Miscellaneous pens and bowls and toys. Orange surrounds me. But, did I need another mug? Honestly, no. But the thoughtfulness of their gesture touched me. And the mug is super cool. Without a handle it fits perfectly in your hand. It will be great when the weather cools and the heat of my coffee or tea leeches into my palms. I am grateful to have received it and to have come to mind while they were thousands of miles away, presumably enjoying other peoples and places and cultures.
An orange mug.
Cicadas singing at dusk.
Pestering a niece working her first job.
Watching a favorite show while holding warmed up lasagna and drinking a glass of red wine.
A friend texting you, “Lectio had your favorite verse in it this morning. Happy Sunday!!!”
A colleague reaching out to see if his church might worship with mine as their HVAC gets repaired.
A woman pointing at the crocheted duck on your dash, smiling and trying to get someone in the back seat of her car to notice it too.
There are so many hard and terrible things in the world. It is easy to get bogged down. Swamped. Overwhelmed.
An orange mug does little to alleviate poverty. Wars rage even as puffy white clouds form the most spectacular shapes and catch the sun in interesting ways. The stuffed French toast (soooo good) at the new breakfast/brunch/lunch spot is not a cure for cancer, dementia, and definitely not, diabetes.
Even so, it is these little things, these simple things, that make it bearable. In fact, it is the experience of small joys that I am finding the greatest pleasure in. They rarely require much more than our awareness; our presence in the moment. To look up. To slow down. To listen. To pay attention. To silence the mind long enough for the worry, doubt, frustration, sorrow, burnout, fear, and all the other experiences of a life muted and blunted and diffused, to be set aside for a fuller, richer life.
To create space for the world to wow us again is no small task. I am finding it is easy to rush through a morning so I can “get things done.” Important things, right? Vital and necessary things, surely?
Maybe not as important as I have convinced myself they are. Maybe we don’t need a side hustle or the elevation of “hustle” as a desirable pursuit. Maybe it really is as simple as thinking about someone while on vacation and bringing back a gift that says, “In the midst of our adventures, while we were experiencing the wonders of another part of this planet, we thought of you.”
Life is better together,
Shawn
p.s. I mean how can you not find delight in a mug from The Art of Mug in the wonderful color, “juicy tangerine?”
Big Rubber Band Ball 