Lovely

Thoughts of writing are always with me. Opening lines of a book run through my mind, only lacking a story. Or complete plots inspired by some event or person that strikes me. Actually writing is the issue. Those ideas, engaging for a few minutes, are not essential to my immediate joy or wellbeing or the joy and wellbeing of those I love. At least that is my thought in the moment.

But the act of writing codifies those fleeting thoughts, taking them from ill formed ideas or incomplete  plots to a picture of what strikes me in the moment or season. Even if the ill formed or incomplete remain so, what is captured paints a picture of the world from my perspective. And, perhaps, it may paint a picture that enlightens others or causes me to see what may be of value as a writing project to extend, to build on, and to complete.

This week Lauren Bacall and Robin Williams died, one in old age, one in the prime of life. Bacall's illness was mentioned in the news but did not stick with me, something about the age made her death seem inevitable and okay. Williams' illness was also mentioned, depression, perhaps he was bipolar. It was not inevitable. Depression magnifies and consumes. For Williams, the disease won out, perhaps past failure or weakness or some present crisis magnified beyond his ability to cope. It does not diminish the laughter he brought to all of us or the love he had for his family. I wish he were here to sum up what he learned in his 63 years on earth as he did each week at the end of Mork and Mindy. It would surely strike the heart of the matter and we would smile. And then we would cry.

What caused the trending of my thoughts was the passage I was meditating on this morning:

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. (From Philippians 4)

There is much in the news that is not those things. Much in our lives or those who have recently died that are not those things. The lessons of disease or failure are not to be lost but neither should they consume. If I only learn from history, I'll never write that story. So, today, I'll look for the true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent, and praiseworthy. 

There are certainly lovely things that come to mind - holding a grandchild for the first time or recalling moments of our vacation. In the midst of the great palaces and cathedrals, beautiful and sobering, there was this ...

Looking out across the rooftops of Barcelona, traffic sounds climbing to my balcony, workmen yelling out in the distance, children's voices rising from the school yard, and one lone sunflower calling out silently - Lovely...