Ordinary Days

I began my morning with coffee and poems from my favorite poet, John O'donahue.   I'm reminded of celebrating the "ordinary". It led me to think about my mother's journals.  She kept them for most of her life.  They celebrated the ordinary which ends up being "a holy place"; like a record of the day she and my father were eating a supper of fish, freshly caught by a local fisherman and cooked to perfection by my mother. They ate outside under an old tree waiting to hear that my first child had been born.  He did arrive safely and we named him Zachary!

I carry on my mother's recording of days with pictures added in my scrapbooks. Sometimes the journaling gets left to last. I think I'll reverse that order and let the ordinary, holy days inspire the pages.

Here's the poem from John O'donahue.

We seldom notice how each day is a holy place

Where the eucharist of the ordinary happens,

Transforming our broken fragments Into an eternal continuity that keeps us.

John O'Donohue, To Bless the Space Between Us: A Book of Invocations and Blessings

In honor of ordinary days, here is today's offering - happy bubbles in a sink full of dishes.

Share your "ordinary" days in the comments!