Lourdes basilica

Sometimes I think, Wait:  what if I get home and home seems just the slightest bit . . . pedestrian?  You know what I mean?  No 14th century basilicas, no street markets a few blocks away, no vibrant flamenco dresses crowding the racks of the local thrift store.

Then I think, Wait.  Interesting things abound at home.  Yes, in the past, I usually had to drive a ways in order to check them out.  But they’re there.  I started thinking about a beautiful old church in Monterey, California, and how, when you walked in, the smell of votive wax was exactly like the smell of every church here on the continent, whether in Hungary, Austria, Bavaria, Netherlands, France, or Spain.  I thought about how much I love Russian Hill, in San Francisco:  the truly amazing antiques shops, the street vendors selling antique jewelry, the circa 1930’s mother-of-pearl button bracelet I scored one afternoon, just before the vendor was packing up to call it a day.  I thought of the time the Eleven O’Clock Dad and I drove to Los Angeles to see what turned out to be some truly gorgeous flamenco, both the guitarists and the dancers so immersed in their craft, so drenched in sweat by the end of the evening, I wondered how they could give that much every time they performed.

My problem is, at home, I sometimes forget to keep seeing.

So my goal when I get back:  find the basilicas in the Seemingly Ordinary.  You know what I mean, right?–bring all my willingness to be interested right back home with me, so that when An Opportunity To Be Delighted comes into view, I can see it for what it is.

Want to try it along with me?

{ Comments on this entry are closed }