Stuff, beans, and magic joy.

It's just week two of 2015, and already I've silently and audibly lamented my uninteresting existence. I have this desire to express, to have discipline in this uncomfortable but healthy way; yet still I bumble about and think only about how I have no thoughts.

Sometimes it might not be all about thoughts. (Frankly, I doubt my thoughts are really worthy to hang in this intense blogging world..) Sometimes there are just things. Things and occurrences and moments and stuff, and perhaps sometimes those are enough.

For example, today. Today was ordinary and magical.

[The beans pictured may or may not be magical.]

The ordinary: I went to work, then Zumba, made dinner, talked to my roomies, procrastinated laundry, and on got on my computer.

The magical: Throughout the morning I was impressed and thankful for my (brand new) co-educators. They care, teach well, and are patient with the kids. They make work fun and make the time pass swiftly, even on a morning when we had 30 entire extra minutes to use. After the in-class "field" trip, I went to a local coffee place and treated myself to TWO beverages over the course of several productive hours. Though the barista insulted me by condescendingly explaining a macchiato — I freakin' know what a macchiato italiano is, lady — the treat of delicious caffeine was working overtime on my happy-making neurotransmitters. Lesson planning went well (at long last), and I feel less nervous about sharing my ideas on Thursday. After work I went to Zumba and had a BLAST, moving like a fool, in pleasantly disguised exercise. At home, Kate sat in the kitchen floor and chatted as I stirred and adjusted a very non-reciped many bean veggie soup. We two opposite yet harmonious souls independently instagrammed the same picture today. James joined us after a time, and praised my impromptu and uncertain soup concoction. Carolyn shared of her life and spiritual journey at house prayer. Soon after, James and I waltzed in the hallway, simply because we learned he had gone to cotillion (mega lawl).

Did that magical sound ordinary? Perhaps it is, written hastily like that. Most magic happens in the cracks, in those minuscule spaces between letters in a word.

Magic, expanded: This morning, a sweet little girl gave me a hug before we left the classroom. Before that, I watched the amazement slowly spread across several third graders' faces as they realized we were talking about feces. Tonight's soup came together without assistance from a broth, stock, or tamarind mix, and somehow was super tasty (despite the use of questionable celery and seemingly dusty beans). I was accidentally Zumba-ing in the kitchen while cleaning up, and Melissa spotted me from the hallway, busting up laughing. In a rare and glorious fashion, all 6 GotHs gathered in our small room this evening.

I love those common, marvelous times. Those spaces throughout the day don't demand attention; they tend to casually and quickly pass. Those teeny, quiet periods are chock-full of true joy. I occasionally fear being desensitized to these good and worthwhile happenings.

Lord help me to be savvy in this practice of magical mini-joys. Let them abound as I seek them and try to see You in them.