Skip to main content

It's Beautiful

I really struggle this time of year. The post holiday crash is potent because of the knowledge that the hardest part of winter is still ahead. The dark and cold and the general inaccessibility of the outdoors often trigger anxiety in me, not to mention depression. My job requires me to be outdoors all year round, regardless of the weather so even though I am used to it, when the temps drop below zero, I'm dragging myself out the door by my boot straps lamenting and mourning those golden summer days.

I had icicles on my eyeballs the day it went fifteen below zero (Fahrenheit) this past week
Between the necessity of getting through the day without frostbite and or misery for me and my kids (though the school has recess in the gym when it's this cold) I often forget to lift up my head and find the beauty that can be found in this dark and solemn season.

That is why I have Leo.

Leo's new favorite word is beautiful.
And he knows how to use it. He knows exactly what it means, it's not just random sounds that can be applied to anything, anytime...
He brings it out with the same flair as a flag, a traffic sign, a prayer, a call to arms...
His bright little face turned up to the sky, the window, the candlelight: he raises his arms and announces to all that "it's beautiful!" 
Driving him to school the other day on the road that briefly follows a mountain creek that was, because of a snow storm during the night, frosted over and sparkling like a diamond as the pink early morning sun played over it. At his joyful cry I looked up from the road, and from my morning list  making mental gymnastics, and for a moment it was as if time stopped. Frozen indeed. Leo was surrounded by the dancing sparkles reflected, and I felt the world slow as if to savor this moment; this moment of suspension of everything except for the miracle of the simple and incredible beauty of light dancing rainbows over his up turned hands, face and the whole world outside our speeding and yet motionless little car.
I'll never forget it.
And as the winter presses me close, all I need to look at my little lion's face, hear his ringing voice cutting through all the dark like a laser beam: a simple word, but the way he wields it, it becomes as profound as life itself and as powerful as ancient glaciers. 
Who could have thought that the boy who when he entered this life was deemed far from beautiful by our cultural definition of the word, knows with his whole being when true beauty is around, and how to glorify in it.

Don't forget to notice the unlikely beauty, because when you do, you'll never forget it.

BTW, I'm still waiting for your movie clips...just a friendly reminder to send 'em to me so we can finally get this project off the ground... 


  1. Hoping to get you a clip by Wednesday or Thursday!

    1. Got it, thanks! I'll try to stick it in.. Movie is coming along, slow but sure.


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Pharmaceutical Fallout

I'm sure you guys are wondering what's been up with the Lion this past week after our worrisome VEEG adventure.  To tell you the truth, I feel like I've been taking shots of Leo's drugs and consequently feel dull and numb and just plain depressed. That is now of course, two days ago I was running high on adrenalin and resembled a charging rhino. I'll tell you why: So after being put on his new drug, Trileptal, Leo definitely started having a cessation of seizure activity, unfortunately however, he also started having severe headaches, photophobia, inconsolable crying and then in the last couple of days, a rash on his thighs, face, and hands. Just as an FYI the word "rash" is a magic word that will open the doors of the medical castle faster and slicker than a trojan horse. It's true, one does not mess about with allergic reactions. He was seen by his neuro within the hour, and after some bullying and grilling from yours truly, the action plan was det…

Not Your Average Special

Leo. This kid. Honestly? Life with the lion can be quantified in two parts: into a simple 60/40 equation. The 40 being the happy normal parent feelings, and the 60 being sheer exhaustion, confusion, worry, and what-the-hell-is-it-now feelings.  All normal right? Just another day in parent land. Wrong. I have always been an advocate for down-playing the special neediness of special needs. Yeah, yeah we all think we are special in our own unique hardships, get over it. We all have crap in our lives to deal with. But I might be starting to change my outlook.  Just a bit. Case in point: Leo and consequently me and everyone else who lives with him, have now been dealing with daily seizures for well over a year. Ok it doesn't sound that bad, when you string the words together and type it out into a sentence; there are way more scary sentences out there like "your child has a terminal brain defect" sentence etc etc. That sounds way more scary than daily seizures. This I know f…

The Rhythm of Life

When I think of the word rhythm, what comes foremost to my mind is a picture of my grandpa's metronome. My grandpa, when he lived in Russia, was a fairly well known voice professor who dedicated his whole life to the perfection and instruction of the human voice. As long as the human in question was applying said voice to opera and only opera, that is. Opera, in my grandpa's mind, was the only music worth bothering with. All other music he condescendingly referred to as "the bebop" with a lot of Russian eye rolling and sighing. He taught me about rhythm by sticking his old wooden metronome on the edge of his piano, and commanded me to never take my eyes off it during the whole voice lesson. Since it was conveniently eye level to my ten year old self it was pretty easy to get completely mesmerized watching the little weighted metal stick swish side to side, side to side, side to side.  I'm thinking now, almost twenty years later, that it may have been part of gra…