Here's the part that really profoundly changed how I think about how I want to live my life--it has to do with the Hebrew concept of what is a "day" ... beginning in the evening:
The first part of the day passes in darkness, then, but not in inactivity. God is out growing the crops even before the farmer is up and knitting together the wound before the clinic opens. When farmer and physician awake, they will join in, contributing mightily, but only because grace came first. Likewise, God has been working on and in them, body and mind, while they slept; yesterday's bruises and slights have begun to heal. Entered this way, morning is new, worth being grateful for even before we have put our human touches on it.
When you think about the day beginning in evening, when you're more apt to slow down and eventually quiet down altogether in sleep, it changes how you see everything. You realize that waking and working is not the first order of activity and it puts business (busy-ness) in perspective. It places realtionships, gratitude and grace at the forefront. It allows renewal in relaxation and rest to be the catalyst for the day rather than the often frantic beginning of days that get started with alarm clocks and racing: to work, to get children to school, to complete too many errands in too short a time.
I feel I've rarely been successful at living this practice--this way of thinking. I think about it a lot but mostly fail to actually live this way, much as I might yearn to. Sometimes I consciously try and do succeed, and once in a while, a day will naturally flow from evening to evening and I realize again the wisdom in this rhythm.
I had just such a day last week. In Boston to visit my daughter, we had an amazing dinner at the first restaurant she worked in while still in school. It's called Via Matta, a lovely Italian restaurant in the Back Bay. It's one of several of the restaurants owned by Chef Michael Schlow. She's currently working between two of his other places, Tico and Barrio Cantina. There were four us at dinner and we opted for the tasting menu. The chef prepared many courses of tastes of what he thought we'd enjoy. We ate magnificent food for what seemed like hours with wine and spirits to go with each course. The conversation centered mainly on food with my younger foodie companions--pure appreciation for the gifts of these ingredients and the talent that created every plate (thank you Chef Leo!) My daughter and her friends all work in high-end hospitality venues, restaurants and hotel, and they have a lot of knowledge and appreciation for food that's done well. It was a meal I'll not soon forget--lovely food and lovelier company. A relatively simple pleasure elevated ....
The following day at the suggestion of my daughter's friend, I made my way to the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in the Fenway neighborhood of Boston. This incredible building is the realization of a dream of one woman with a stupendous art collection and a desire to share it with the world. It's impossible to describe the perfection of the combination of architecture and objects that culminate in this place. Mrs. Gardner brought back so many treasures and works of art from her world travels that only this 3-story palazzo could house them. At the heart of the space is a courtyard. When I entered the first floor and stood in the courtyard, I recognized immediately that this would be a memorable afternoon and the beauty of the place would fill my mind for a long time to come. I'm not a poet or a writer so I'll never find the right words to describe or properly explain the absolutely visceral reaction I had as I explored each succeeding space. Never before have I been moved to tears by a place.
Mrs. Gardner focused her collecting on those objects and artifacts that fired her imagination, eventually collecting over 25,000 paintings, sculptures, objects d'art, furnishings and textiles. She arranged them in three floors of gallery spaces in "installations" that were pleasing to her and make utterly perfect sense. They could not be anywhere but where she placed each one. Most of the galleries open onto the courtyard, affording a constantly changing perspective of the art-filled garden space. In the changing light of day, it is its own artwork.
Much of the art found in the museum is religious in nature and from the Renaissance. But there are pieces from ancient Egypt and others from the 20th century, particularly Impressionist works. Isabella Stewart Gardner was a patron of John Singer Sargent and portraits he painted of her are hung among the carefully thought out rooms.
I hope everyone who visits Boston has a chance to see this awe-inspiring place at least once. I can't wait to return. It was the most spiritual experience I've ever had in a man-made (woman-made) place and yes, I've been to lots of religious spaces and places, including the Vatican. I think it was because the spirit and generous nature of Isabella Steward Gardner still lives throughout the building, because you can feel how much she wants you to appreciate and understand the messages, cultures and history represented by the objects she collected.
It was 24 hours of grace and appreciation that I will not soon forget. The sensory joy I experienced that day, evening to evening, was beyond anything I'd planned or could have imagined.
The following day at the suggestion of my daughter's friend, I made my way to the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in the Fenway neighborhood of Boston. This incredible building is the realization of a dream of one woman with a stupendous art collection and a desire to share it with the world. It's impossible to describe the perfection of the combination of architecture and objects that culminate in this place. Mrs. Gardner brought back so many treasures and works of art from her world travels that only this 3-story palazzo could house them. At the heart of the space is a courtyard. When I entered the first floor and stood in the courtyard, I recognized immediately that this would be a memorable afternoon and the beauty of the place would fill my mind for a long time to come. I'm not a poet or a writer so I'll never find the right words to describe or properly explain the absolutely visceral reaction I had as I explored each succeeding space. Never before have I been moved to tears by a place.
Mrs. Gardner focused her collecting on those objects and artifacts that fired her imagination, eventually collecting over 25,000 paintings, sculptures, objects d'art, furnishings and textiles. She arranged them in three floors of gallery spaces in "installations" that were pleasing to her and make utterly perfect sense. They could not be anywhere but where she placed each one. Most of the galleries open onto the courtyard, affording a constantly changing perspective of the art-filled garden space. In the changing light of day, it is its own artwork.
Much of the art found in the museum is religious in nature and from the Renaissance. But there are pieces from ancient Egypt and others from the 20th century, particularly Impressionist works. Isabella Stewart Gardner was a patron of John Singer Sargent and portraits he painted of her are hung among the carefully thought out rooms.
I hope everyone who visits Boston has a chance to see this awe-inspiring place at least once. I can't wait to return. It was the most spiritual experience I've ever had in a man-made (woman-made) place and yes, I've been to lots of religious spaces and places, including the Vatican. I think it was because the spirit and generous nature of Isabella Steward Gardner still lives throughout the building, because you can feel how much she wants you to appreciate and understand the messages, cultures and history represented by the objects she collected.
It was 24 hours of grace and appreciation that I will not soon forget. The sensory joy I experienced that day, evening to evening, was beyond anything I'd planned or could have imagined.
No comments:
Post a Comment