The Delight Prescription
I look around my momentarily-dishevelled living room. The ever-green pencil tree that has been up since December might look out of place on the last day of March, but not for long. A jaunty circlet of White feathers and pearls dons its top announcing that it will soon be spring. Crystal-encrusted eggs in subtle hues of rose, violet, chartreuse, yellow and white adorn the branches and jeweller’s crystals in their second incarnation as dewdrops shimmer and shine and will continue to light the room until May Day. Posies of jonquils, pansies and miniature lilies are tucked into sparse areas. Gilded, jewel-toned birds with white down tails perch shyly amongst the finery. This year I have added diminutive porcelain cups and saucers, and teapots. Slowly but surely my home is putting on its Easter bonnet.
It has been a long, cold, unrelenting winter. Snow seldom flies in the Lower Mainland of Vancouver but we have had plenty this year. While we cannot lay claim to several feet of the white stuff, any small amount is more than enough to shut down commerce and render us storm-stayed. Roads are cleared as quickly as our meagre supply of salt and manpower will allow. Sidewalks, however, remain impassable, sometimes for many days, making it especially hard for those of us who don’t drive, are disabled and have mobility issues. To keep from going stark-raving shack-wacky, I turned my attention to home.
Over the years I have taken my cue from the seasons and decorated our little nest accordingly. But as one season eases into another, there are a few days when things look a bit worse for wear; the transitions can be chaotic. Today is one of those days. The catch is that tomorrow I am booked for surgery to repair a perforated eardrum. I have no idea how I will respond to surgery or how long I will need to recover, but the doctor has said no strenuous housework for at least six weeks.
The lazy pacific sun has fallen asleep, so I turn on the lights to the Christmas cum Valentine cum Easter Tree. The shadows of dusk are transformed into something magical. How does the warm glow soften each harsh shadow and shed its cheerful presence to every corner? I can’t explain it, but I can enjoy it. I nuzzle back into the cushions of the sofa, the warm cup of Cream of Earl Grey cradled in my palms, bringing as much contentment from its aroma as from its soothing taste. The Delight Prescription calms the soul and opens the heart to the possibilities of health and wholeness. It gently brings to mind that the worries of today will pass and all will eventually be well. “Be still and know...” a small voice whispers to my waiting spirit.
