Wednesday, January 30, 2008

On the nature of surprises

Some surprises are nice. Like the one you get when you eat my chocolate chunk meringues. You're expecting light, crispy meringue, which you definitely get, but you also get a mouthful of smooth chocolate that is totally unexpected and very, very nice.

Some surprises are odd. Like when I lifted the big, opaque bottle of laundry detergent the other day. It should have been nearly full, I had just bought it recently. And my brain was obviously operating under the assumption that it was, because my arm and the bottle went flying up. Don't ask me where all that detergent went, I have no idea. Anyway.

Some surprises are potentially dangerous. Like when I was carrying Boy2 (yes, I know, he's way too heavy for me to be doing that) down the stairs and my brain and legs were convinced there was one more step, and there wasn't. We didn't fall, just stumbled, surprised.

And some surprises aren't surprises at all, they're something else - cool sand running through your fingers. Like when you expect the very best to happen, and it does. Or when you see that something that should have been a surprise wasn't one at all - it was simply what you were looking for, asking for without even knowing it. Or when you imagine how good something is going to be, and you realize it'll be better. Or when you know you're exactly where you're supposed to be, despite the clamouring and chaos.

Hey, when was your last surprise? And was it nice, odd, potentially dangerous, or not a surprise after all?

4 comments:

beth said...

My last surprise. . .while in the chaois of the flu I took time to realize how lucky I am to have my girls - the oldest one rubbing my back trying to ease my nausea and has to do with my sister - realizing how similiar in some ways we are but how totally different we are in other ways

Lorraine said...

My last surprise was at Uncle Gib's funeral; I'd gone steeling myself against all the people I didn't want to see and was surprised to be surrounded and embraced by all sorts of wonderful, loving people instead. And none of the bad ones.

Call me, btw. We need to talk. I'll be out tomorrow morning but maybe Monday?

Anonymous said...

Your last two posts are amazing, like reading a book on Zen but different. I think of you often.
Julie

Nicole said...

Beth - You and your sister found each other.

Lorraine - A perfect suprise. Monday's fine.

Julie - Thank you. Me too.