I'm sitting in my breakfast nook right now mulling over a misspeak I heard just this morning during a weekly Bible study that I've been part of for years. Chatting about our plans for the day, someone referred to today as "Mundane" instead of "Monday." That idea has stayed with me as several of my days could certainly be referred to as "Mundanes" lately. Have you experienced these, too? I think I often feel as if I/we are in a holding pattern, just waiting to see what will happen next. What will be the consequences of the new coronavirus mutation? Will kids be able to return to school safely? Can our government ever just govern and not fight? What will it take for everyone to just be nice? Perhaps these, and many other "what ifs" are what is contributing to my "Mundanes." (Yep, getting a little philosophical right now - beware).
I mentioned that I'm sitting in my breakfast nook. Those of you who have been in my house, know that I have windows on both sides of me and I'm overlooking some stately pine trees. Ground covered with snow. Cold. Still. Not much going on out there right now. Pretty mundane indeed. Right? Wrong!
While it looks rather bleak above ground, there is so so much going on under the snow. The energy of the pines and bare trees, grasses, shrubs, perennials that appear lifeless during winter has simply moved underground where there is much going on right now to support not only life through the winter, but also to be able to flourish beyond, coming back stronger and larger when the days lengthen. Soon that underground energy of the trees will start rising, giving us sap and resins to turn into medicines and syrups. Perennial plants are actively sending out new roots and will come back larger and stronger. Seeds scattered at or near the surface of the soil are freezing & thawing & freezing & thawing, a process known as "cold stratification" - a necessary step for germination as the weather warms in the coming months. Amazing. Humbling. Dependable.
So, let's walk outside today and consider what is happening right under our feet, under the snow, in the cold, frozen ground. We can't see it. We can't even tend to it and help it along. But it's there. It's happening. Perhaps plants have much to teach us, even in winter. Maybe this awareness can change a Mundane into a Monday worth remembering.