The year 2013 is not off to a good start for us. It seems like one or more of us has been sick almost non-stop. I've had a pretty stressful couple of weeks at work. The combination of co-running the Edwards Family Infirmary and work has left me with almost no time to do anything: blog, workout, breathe, etc. I was so stressed that in the past week I've left two voicemails for one of my best friends and they have both started with, "[t]his is Christine Edwards," as if she was a perfect stranger. We've had a good laugh about that.
Two different recent postings on Facebook have made me pause for consideration. The first is a Washington Post Article from 2007, entitled "Pearls Before Breakfast." During the morning rush hour, world-famous violinist Joshua Bell played his violin at a subway station in Washington, D.C. It was a sociology experiment of sorts and I could go into a lengthy dissertation about appearance and class bias, and maybe I will at some point, but for right now what matters is two things: 1. he was playing music in the subway; and 2. few people noticed him except for children. This really resonated with me for a few reasons but first and foremost because we took Nicholas to his first Yankees game when he was like six. We took the train to 125th street and then the subway to the new, old Yankee Stadium. When we walked that block in Harlem, the little white boy from Connecticut announced loudly, "this place gives me the creeps!" Thank goodness he wasn't wearing a Red Sox jersey, or this story might not have a happy ending. Nick also decided on that trip that when he grew up he wanted to play music in the subway. Dare to dream little one! I'm secretly glad that he did not have any super special musical talents! Nick definitely noticed all of the street musicians more than I did. I was distracted with trying to make sure I didn't lose him, and trying to get Bernie in his seat before first pitch. What I thought was most interesting about the article is that Mr. Bell made about $150 in that hour at the metro station with people throwing money in a hat. The evening before he was bringing in $100 per ticket. When people are in a hurry and focused, they seldom let themselves be distracted, even if it means listening to a world-class musician for free (once again I'm finding myself wishing I had a picture of my little Nick that I don't have - a picture of his little body in an over-sized Derek Jeter jersey. Even if I can't share it with you, it is forever burned in my memory).
The second posting is an article on CNN.com, entitled "The Importance of a Stop Day." That article contemplates the health implications of us working 24/7. Nowadays, we never really stop. As a result our bodies are constantly producing hormones to deal with stress, and this continuous production is not good for our health. Everything used to shut down on Sunday and people had to cease their labors and rest. This is not so anymore. Matthew Sleeth discusses how people say that they don't have enough time, and what they really mean is that they don't have enough time to get to the really important stuff. I totally feel this- that there isn't enough time, that I am too stressed out, that I am missing out on little things that would have defined and shaped me, and brought be fleeting moments of happiness.
In my own effort to stop and smell the roses, here are a few pictures I took this week. I was in Florida much of the week for work, so here are some neon palm trees. Palm trees generally make me smile, but neon palm trees are even better. They immediately made me think of Miami Vice, although I am not sure why. These were taken in Orlando, at one of the Disney resorts. Honestly, where else would one expect to find neon palm trees?
Here is the sunset from 10,000 feet.
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I started this blog post last week and never got around to finishing it or posting it. Bernie is ok, but he was rear ended tonight on his way home from work. He was in New Haven just before the tunnel on the Merritt Parkway and was on his way to pick the kids up from daycare. He is stiff and sore and will hopefully go get checked out tomorrow, but is doing okay otherwise. The car didn't fare so well. It is a company car and Bernie was not at-fault, so it should all work itself out.
I am so thankful that Bernie does not appear to be seriously hurt. I am so thankful that the kids were not in the car. The phone call I got from my audibly shaken husband could have been a much worse phone call from a police officer. If this isn't yet another wake up call for all of us to appreciate each other and the little things in life, I don't know what is.
