I’m about to share with you a personal email. But before I do, I’d like to talk first about plumb lines. Because this email that you will read shortly is so much more than a message I received from a friend. This email will remain forever a vertical reference line that allows me to measure the center of balance of my life on any day.

And that takes us back to plumb lines.

The dictionary tells us that the word plumb comes from the Latin word for the metal lead.) A plumb line is a string or line from which a weight is hung. (The weight is called a plumb bob.) This plumb line is suspended from above to determine or test whether something below is or isn’t vertical. Plumb lines determine the vertical on an upright surface. Think of an ancient cathedral. Probably a plumb line was centered over a mark on the floor; and, as the building proceeded upward, the plumb line would be taken higher, insuring that the building stayed straight as it grew in height. (You can still see these marks on the floor of many old buildings.)
(more…)

There are new movements, and then there are new movements. How about something called The Art of Living Slowly? This organization, begun in Italy by Bruno Contigiani, is spreading rapidly! (Is that a contradiction in terms?)

You can find a lot of websites that are part of the “slow movement.” I just bought a cookbook called The Slow Mediterranean Kitchen and have one called Slow Cooking: Not So Fast Food on my wish list.

There was a Slow Day—on a Monday of all days—in New York City recently, modeling itself on the World Slow Day that occurred earlier in Italy. During World Slow Day people received citations for walking too fast. Participants in a Slow Day marathon attempted to travel 656 feet without stopping, in no less than an hour and 27 minutes. People walking through the center of the city during rush hour had their speedy movement halted when someone stopped them to hand them a poem. (more…)

Imagine this:

You are driving into a town in the Netherlands called Makkinga. There is a traffic sign that reads “Verkeersbordvrij,” which translates “free of traffic signs.” This means there are no stop signs, no road markings, no parking meters, no pedestrian crossings. There are no stopping restrictions nor even any lines painted on the streets.

Instead of traffic rules and signs in Makkinga, there is the idea that streets are shared by drivers and pedestrians on equal grounds. The assumption that drivers own the road is replaced by the assertion that everyone has the same access to the public space. The thought is that if drivers are going to have to pay attention to pedestrians and bicycle riders and other vehicles—with no help from traffic signals and road signs—they will slow down and be more alert. (more…)

Last October I had the pleasure of being on Mackinac Island in northern Michigan for the first time. You probably remember that beautiful place and the majestic Grand Hotel from the 1980’s movie “Somewhere in Time.” Christopher Reeves plays the part of a playwright who falls in love with the picture of a beautiful woman and chooses to leave current time to go back to 1912 to be with her. If you have seen the movie, you remember the beautiful cliffs, the sparkling water of the Straits of Mackinac and the horses and carriages (which are still the only way to get around the island unless one walks. No cars allowed.)

One afternoon during my stay on the Island I was using a narrow dirt path to go from the West Bluff down through Marquette Park to the main street of the village. I had been up on the bluff admiring some of the wonderful old homes from the 19th century with their bay windows, unusual roof lines, and high wooden steps. As I began my walk back to the village the weather turned. What began as a sprinkle turned into a full-blown rain gale before I got back to the hotel. So I was both hurrying and being careful as I walked down the sloping path.
(more…)

Inspiration and insight come, sometimes, from the strangest places.

Yesterday I was reading an article on trends in the creation of new scents in perfume. The article ended with instructions on how to wear perfume. (New instructions that I had not read before: put perfume on upper arms because that’s the part of your body you move the most, on neck so that people smell the scent when they hug you, and a big quirt down your back so that perfume lingers!)

The author instructed that spraying perfume in the room and then “stepping out into it” is definitely not the way to put perfume on. I smiled about this because it would never have crossed my mind to spray something as expensive as perfume into the room and then to try to “step into it” as a way of wearing the scent.

I suppose the discussion about “stepping out into a spray of perfume” was still resonating somewhere in my consciousness this morning when I got up. I looked outside into the spring-green tree tops around the back side of our house, saw the sunlight dappled in lovely patterns on the wood planks of the deck, and heard the birds sounding out into the breeze.

My next thought?

“I’m going to take every opportunity I have this morning to step out into the day.” Then I wondered, “What do we mean when we say step out into the day?” Is the day an envelope of beauty to step into? A bubble of light and pattern? A contained space of some sort that is filled with temperature and color and sound? (more…)