C'est Les Petites Choses

It is not enough to say I have been there.
A voyage is not just a journey.
It's a period carved out of time, when the impossible can happen.
                                                                                        Anonymous

We've done a lot a traveling this summer, eaten a few meals, drunk some great wine, bought gifts, and taken a lot of photographs. For part of the summer, I rented a house in Santa Fe to see what might happen. My fantasy was that time alone in a casita might conjure up something big, a bolt of inspiration, a new direction, and monumental changes would occur in my life. It wasn't the Italy, India and Indonesia experiment, but it was my journey.

Part of the time, I toured the art galleries that entice at every twist and turn and was intrigued by numerous interpretations of The Three Graces, goddesses from Roman and Greek mythology entwined in a standing circle, posed mid-dance. Several versions at the New Mexico galleries were graceful bronze female nudes; some were comedic portly fellows posed in drunken stupor struggling to assist each other in remaining aright; other forms were quite serious Native Americans representing three generations of a Pueblo tribe. All charmed and appealed in their differences.

The Graces are rarely treated as individuals, but always together-a trinity of charm, beauty, and joy.  Their classic pose is said to reflect the three aspects of the gift: the giving, the acceptance, and the returning.  This explains the never-ending encirclement stance and why they were attendant to the divinities, presiding over merrymaking, and performing as inspiration to artists.  Some historians believe that The Graces were just an excuse for the Romans and Greeks to sculpt, draw, and gaze upon naked women.

Historically in art, The Three Graces are viewed as a symbol of lasting unity that represents joy, beauty and charm. Their unity is often a gate to a harbor where human society bonds, one to another. They are found on doors to museums, in foyers of institutions of learning, and in palaces of kings. But, they whisper to each of us in quiet, solitary moments, too--when we take the time to observe, recognize, and acknowledge the small things that exist and should be appreciated.  These are the real gifts of life, free for the taking, the cycle never-ending.  By identifying their relevance, we become connected to and encircled by one another.

I'm not sure it matters much what their guidance is for or about. Through contemplation of what they could mean to me, I discovered that big changes don't occur without paying attention to the small things: those right in front of you, everyday.  And it's in the noticing that one can effect a seismic shift.

So, what's a little thing?

It's when the dog around the corner from my house finally stops barking at me and wanders over in recognition; when the 'Chile Man' who cooks at the Farmer's Market hollers my name to come over and check out his new recipes; when Native American farmers cut an apricot to share a taste of their new crop; when an older couple runs over to give me the last hour remaining on a parking stub so that I don't have to purchase a new one; when a friendly bartender pours the last glass of wine that remains in a bottle of Malbec and doesn't charge me. It's sitting under the Milky Way to share stories with friends or watching a small dog smell ants on the patio and chase them until he's exhausted.

Our favorite story from the Santa Fe trip happened while sitting at dinner on the patio of restaurant with our son and daughter-in-law who were visiting us from New York City.  A 'butterfly' tree near our table was heavy with fragrant purple flowers. Two butterflies blithely enjoyed nuzzling each blossom, until four hummingbirds plunged with quick aggression into the bush. An all out war began and the two lacy butterflies emerged as victors, alone again with their hedge of flowers.  At this point, the NYC residents who "see it all" on a daily basis, sighed and said, "the will to ensure the continuation of a species is very strong, even in the most fragile layers of the animal kingdom." We sat quietly, smiling at each other, knowing that we had been given a life-size gift by merely sharing a small thing.

What did you notice today?