525, 600 minutes. Friends, how will we measure life this year?
Every day I hear “Seasons of Love,” by songwriter Jonathan Larson, pose that question. Poignant theme, catchy tune.
The little earworm with a big heart.
Dreamer has it on loop, so he can rehearse it. He and our oldest daughter will be auditioning for an ensemble within the Whitworth Community Chorale. We’ll all sing this April at the swankiest venue in town.
To perform again with our girl . . . in our seventies — the so-called exit-lane, I mean, on-ramp years (because . . . heaven, right?) — bowls me over.
For now, my seasons of love are earthbound, and I hold these fleeting moments dear.
525,600 minutes . . . The musical groove replays. Caught up in the syncopation, I have a mini-epiphany: it’s Leap Year; we have 527, 000 minutes!
Remember that small discrepancy between global calendars and earth’s orbit around the sun? A measly quarter-hour difference, over decades, will throw off the seasons. Think crops. Holidays. Travel schedules. Nearly every four years, we have to adjust.
We are making up for lost time.
How? A full day: sheer windfall.
I’m planning a day-treat — more doable on short notice than a personal retreat. If I schedule it in the next couple weeks, I’ll join almost 5 million “leaplings” (those born on February 29) as they prepare for the quasi-rarified observance of their birth.
So much constellates around that idea: birth . . .
Why not re-sync with the heavens?
Choose an ordinary day to reenter the timeless, friends — one spacious enough to absorb the “awe behind the obvious” as Rick Rubin puts it.
I enjoy shifting artfully numbered wood blocks on my universal calendar. “All my times are in your hands,” I murmur, as the new numeral faces front. I’ll start my day-treat there.
I might page through old albums. Lately, God is reviving my past (a kind of retrofitting, perhaps?), bringing the trusted model up to date.
I’ll lean into my favorite breath prayer throughout the day (see below).
Turns out the word “inspiration,” from the Latin inspirare, means “to breathe life into.” Notice that last syllable: rare? A definition far older than I am translates inspirare as “the immediate influence of the divine.”
Time is more layered than we think. Unresolved questions lurk there, often skewing our current worldview. I could write a book about that. And did (update below).
Plan your day-treat or, if you prefer, wake up and be deliciously spontaneous each given hour.
Grab a candle. Strike a match. Allow that brief singe and flare to usher you somewhere.
Friends, share one thing you’d love to do on your day-treat . . .
Trinity Wick Breath Prayer: from the archives.
Paced for the cadence of a relaxed breath, pray the first half of each line on the inhale; the second half on the exhale. watch for what kindles within.
(inhale) Holy God: (exhale) commune with me
Perfect Love: suffuse me
Light of the World: illumine me
(extinguish match to the following words)
Three-in-One . . . I, in Thee
Here am I, use me
“Seasons of Love,” by Jonathan Larson (525,600 minutes), from the musical Rent
Rick Rubin: The Creative Act: a Way of Being
Photo by Rachael Crowe on Unsplash
Sneak preview, back cover. Might have books in mid-March!
525,600 minutes.
Wow.
Brings time into a clearer perspective.
Had never heard the song.
Thank you.
On ramp… I like it.
I too become ever aware of a clock that ticks.
Hearing it in step with every day lived.
I REALLY appreciate your sharing epiphany.
Looking forward to February 29.
I’ve been challenged in this season of life in properly stewarding the time given to me.
Feeling “inspirare” to now write a Ricky Rap themed around a “small discrepancy between global calendars and earth’s orbit around the sun.”
Rick, I look forward to reading the next rap . . . (I really enjoyed the RR for Valentine’s Day.)
Stewarding is a word on my mind, as well. With so many new things to attend to in the coming months, I could lose my bearings. I want to remain engaged in the moment I’m in, feet on the ground, heart open, expectant, rather than straining at a leash of my own making.
So here’s to 2/29! Be it a reset or grateful continuation . . . hopefully, both!
Oh my goodness lori, have fun to listen to that song from rent. And how exciting for you and yours to be able to sing together in public at a cool place.
I am not surprised that you should be asked to do so. Thank you for this recalibration.
PS cheering for you that your book is on the on-ramp to publication;
PPS. *Laurie*
Note to self, double check your voice to text before you hit ‘post.’ 😁
Jody, I’ve not yet graduated to using voice-to-text technology, old-school gal, that I am. You have my admiration for being adept as well as hip! : )
Jody, thank you for the fellow wordsmith and singer cheer! As you know so well, it’s a no switchbacks, up-the-mountain marathon of minutiae at this point. : )
So beautiful, Laurie. I am breathing in cadence. Thank you.
Oh, I love reading that. Thank you for letting me know, friend.
Such fun to sing as a family! I was all set to sing with my D-I-L and granddaughter in the Advent Choir at church this past Christmas, and then hurt my back the day before. I did enjoy the rehearsals though! / How wonderful that you’ve written a new book, Laurie. This new collection of poems sounds highly intriguing! / Such a good idea–to turn February 29 into a day-treat. One thing I’d like to do: pull out the arts and crafts supplies to do some Bible art journaling. Haven’t created anything in quite awhile!
Nancy, what a great idea for leap day! I just might head that direction, too . . . for an hour or two . . . It’s been ever so long for me as well. That particular “flow” amid color and line, shape and texture, can be so delicious!
I am so sorry to hear of your injury and the disappointment of not singing joining the choir on performance day. I do hope you are feeling spry again?
Beautiful, needed to read this today and grateful for the breath and the prayer. Bless you… inspirare
Susan, thank you for reading and leaving this lovely note for me to find at day’s end. So glad the post resonated!
Love your posts … Your words and your smile💗🙏🏼💗
An honor to know you’re savoring them! thank you!
Yay can’t wait. Thank you for the reminder of time fleeting. I needed that today.
About an hour ago my littlest granddaughter said, “Aanie, do you know what “tempus fugit” means? She’s barely eight. How do these things happen?! Living proof of the Latin!