Centerpiece:
A landing place for the jaded gaze
A scenic interruption of the mundane
A visual invitation
For 10 glorious days Maui offered us multiple, exotic cameos (and a perfect getaway despite coming home pale as ever, 3 pounds heavier).
A centerpiece can surprise or transport us, like these top-lit, dream-state jellyfish.
A centerpiece can appear anywhere, at any time, arresting our attention, like these patterns formed by loosening plastic film on window panes.
For me, creating a centerpiece feels like making an altar. It awakens the senses. Lifts the spirit. Mom taught me this.
A “found” centerpiece, like these photos, offers unique spontaneous pleasures—no work involved.
Best of all, we don’t need a tropical island to create an island of calm in our day.
What’s in a name?
Centerpiece — imagination toys with the spelling:
Scenter piece
Sent her peace
Centaur peas
I grin, yet feel a small ache. Could this be code for something worth naming?
For centuries spiritual seekers have zeroed in on a word or phrase they long to deeply experience.
A verbal centerpiece.
I’m describing a shirt-tail cousin to Lectio Divina, the monastic practice of daily reflecting on a word or phrase gleaned from scripture or other spiritual texts.
Dwelling for a day beneath a word like a banner feels bracing. A mental upgrade.
Annually, I choose a word or phrase for the coming year. Not because I’m hyper-spiritual.
No. Call me The Distraction Magnet. My soundest intentions are easily foiled. Plus I’m forgetful. I need Cliffs Notes for more aware living — preferably the haiku version. Abridged.
Words with variable interpretations nurture, guide, and challenge me.
If they pull double duty as noun and verb, all the better.
To keep things fresh, I sometimes substitute new words. Write them on jaunty place cards and sticky notes, then affix them to dashboards and mirrors. Handlebars. Calendars. Closet shelves. Cupboard doors.
I fold them into wallets and tuck them inside books I’m reading.
Like cheeky cartoon captions, well-chosen words re-focus me, streamline my thoughts. Refresh my intention.
The briefest soul download . . . in a single glance.
Sometimes they affect my Yays and Nays. They help me:
organize possibilities
curate opportunities
cull old nemeses
Centerpiece living vs feature creep
During childhood my brother craved those fluffy corner pieces on bakery cakes, inch-deep in piped ridges and clustered roses.
I preferred middle pieces, choir-girl modest beneath a skim of white icing.
Too much of anything jangles me, be it whipped lard-and-sugar, caffeine, or excess input—including Costco and media touting myriad products, ever-breaking news and images.
Give me the gist. The essence. The heart of the matter, where I can briefly rest.
And catch those small messages hidden in plain sight.
Today I want to sense the crux of things . . .
in decor and diet
personal study
conversations, letters, emails
prayers, poems, and blog posts
events and interactions
And tonight, recount each centerpiece of the day—those created, and those found.
“It’s simple,” Mom said. “Just do this, often”:
Any “found centerpieces” in your day so far? I’d love to hear about them.
Why not create one for your desk or table? Or your screen saver?
“Dwelling for a day beneath a word like a banner feels bracing. A mental upgrade.”
This is so true, Laurie. This is one of the few years I haven’t chosen a word or picture to name my journey. And I am feeling a bit rudderless these days. A word give direction, I think. I love centerpiece! I will be thinking about this, friend. xoxo
Hi Laura, so lovely to see you here. For me, an expansive word floats, almost seems to breathe — so welcome amid the day-to-day. May the Giver of small centerpieces captivate, empower, and encompass you today.
Today is valintine’s day. One of my centerpiece’s for today will be my Lovely bride.
It is my Joy to focus daily, on Her feeling cherished.
How blessed I am ,from the I AM .
And how blessed she is, Mike! Wishing you both a day brimming with shared joy, and pleasures great and small.
Mike, I just read this post and thought of your marriage:
“Love is the athletic strength of marriage—unquestionably the supporting spiritual foundation of any union.
Cherish is the grace, the poetry, and the beauty of enjoyment. It takes your marriage to another level and makes it not only beautiful to dance, but beautiful for others to watch.” —Gary Thomas
Read more at this URL: http://tinyurl.com/jk9cmod
I actually have two related phrases, which came simultaneously at the beginning of the year as I sought Biblically spiritual orientation. From Dallas Willard’s ‘Hearing God’, “I am with you. I am with you. Are you willing to be with Me?” & ‘Formation before information’. I wrote both on colored construction paper and mounted them in a silver frame for my desk.
Your references to your mother have encouraged me to seek how my own mother has influenced my way of viewing the world. Thanks for sharing how He has cramm’d my place on earth with heaven. Denise
Denise, wow, what potent words to lean into, and live by: comfort and challenge and guidance. They cut right to the core of things. Supremely frame-worthy.
In revisiting the E. B. Browning poem just now, I slip off my socks, wiggle my toes, and commit afresh to “seeing.” Thanks, Denise.
For anyone reading this thread who’s curious, here are the winsome lines Denise refers to:
“Earth’s crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God,
But only he who sees takes off his shoes;
The rest sit round and pluck blackberries.”
—Elizabeth Barrett Browning
For Your Mother-
Small frame, twig of green.
Kitchen windowsill center peace and
reveal worlds unseen.
I have fond memories of your mother’s windowsill above the sink and am blessed with an on-going kitchen altar because of them. Lynn
Lynn, your “center peace” haiku ushers me right into Mom’s kitchen with its turquoise appliances and sad, cornerless drawers gnawed by the rotation of dogs over the years. To visualize that window again today—what a gift! Thank you.
I’ve not associated the words “reveal” or “kitchen altar” with that domestic scene before, and it feels exactly right.
Mom’s sill-scape felt halfway magical to me as a kid, even when I had to dry the dishes, or worse, plunge my hands into dishwater gone murky with use. To this day, I move the small glass sphere from her sill around my house, usually when the season change, so I don’t lose the experience of “seeing” it.
How she loved that old Chinese proverb: “If I keep a green bough in my heart, the singing bird will come.”
You brought her back to me today, friend. I’m grateful.
The life gifts of your Mom lives in you- and Carol.
Whoops! My subject and verb do not agree… The life gifts of your Mom live on in you- and Carol.
Thank you, Lynn, Your observation is precious to me.
Sometimes I trip over subject/verb agreement, too. 🙂
Laurie, coming to read your words feels like a sacred invitation and a beautiful opening to your poetic, creative imagination. You had me smiling here – a lot – and that hasn’t happened in a few days at least. I love the way you play with words and images. Both of which are gorgeous feasts for the soul.
A centrepiece sounds delight-full (word pun intended). Maybe I should aim for a rockery or an indoor plant to pause over? Because “rooted” is my given word this year and I’m trying hard not to look at it in a limiting way.
Whatever presents itself, it seems my heart is suggesting I centre most on peace, God’s peace, which is available to heal our stressed states and become the main focal point and centrepiece of our lives as believers in Christ. Love your thoughts here, friend! Blessings of peace to you. xo
Dear Joy, what a gift it is to me to know these words and photos brought you a smile or two amid recent challenging days. I am hoping you’ll find cause to laugh aloud tomorrow!
I was just thinking of a peace lily for your table or beside your favorite reading chair. Or maybe forcing some spring bulbs in a clear vase of stones and water so you could watch the roots weave their lace through colored pebbles. And then you’d likely write a haiku about it that I could read. (Is that selfish of me?)
You are dear to me, and I pray the coming days bring light and sweet rest.
Dear Laurie, I LOVE your suggestions here! Thank you so much for pondering over a suitable centrepiece for me to focus on. And your ideas are written like poetry to me – always a bonus in our conversations! You are dear to me too, sweet friend. xo <3
I have to say the British spelling is so much cooler. Far superior to type centrepiece (I am ignoring those pesky red dots from my decidedly euro-challenged spell checker).
I’ve no doubt oodles of beauty surround you already, artist that you are. I splurged on a red begonia at the Valentine display, for our table yesterday, can’t recall the specific name, but the blooms resemble miniature roses. I think it has secrets to tell me.
One can never be surrounded by too much beauty, and the type most prominent in my life takes spiritual eyes to see.
All flowers yield secrets. Listen well (like you always do) to their vivid red whispers. xo
Ahhh, I believe you’re right. Picture me tomorrow morning at the scarred oak table, my left ear cocked, red petals divulging their truth . . .
😉😘❤
Love you, Pacia. I was just thinking about you this past week. Hope all is well, my dear friend, and that art is oozing from your fingertips.
Your words are a scented peace to me. The photos a breath of clean air.
Now I’m thinking… what is my center pieye today? That piece that centers me.
Thank you.
‘pieye’? Old typing fingers. Sorry.
I like it. A verbal shortcut for “here’s pie in your eye” 🙂
Jody-O, my friend, thank you for these phrases: “scented peace” and “breath of clean air.” I don’t think I can put into words right now how much I needed to know this post connected (one of those push-through-the=self-doubt days). Knowing your upbeat outlook, a life-giving centerpiece will present itself any moment and bowl you over and you’ll have all the right words to tell about it in contagious ways.
Your insights, Laurie, always bring delight. I love the idea of collecting centerpieces for the day as worshipful celebrations of our Father Creator. I’d say today’s centerpiece for me was the sighting of a new bird among the stand of trees behind our house. He was either a warbler or vireo, but I couldn’t see his markings well enough for a definite identification. To have a new avian visitor was a particular delight this afternoon. As for a one-word reflective rest, I’ll choose “promise” from this quote, taken from a recent blog post of our friend, Kimberlee Conway Ireton: “The great promise of the Christian life is that God is in it.” As I contemplate all the promises He keeps every day, because He is in my life, my heart fills with gratitude. Thank you, Laurie, for inspiring such uplifting reflection!
Oh, Nancy, what delight to hear a new bird! You know I’ve never seen a vireo but there’s a Roethke poem I love with that image. Do you know it? Here’s one stanza, and a link.
Deep in the greens of summer sing the lives
I’ve come to love. A vireo whets its bill.
The great day balances upon the leaves;
My ears still hear the bird when all is still;
My soul is still my soul, and still the Son,
And knowing this, I am not yet undone.
http://tinyurl.com/jzwuajn
And the word “promise.” Goose bumps up and down my arms. What a day you’ve had, and I, who have received dire news this day, thank you for sharing your centerpiece and word of wonder. Your grateful pleasure is contagious. Thank you, friend!
Thanks, Laurie. Sometimes I get caught up in the hustle and bustle. But I am always on the lookout for something beautiful or something to laugh at. You put beauty into words!
Michele, I know that is true of you—even in the jungle! I love this about your nature. And I love recalling times we’ve laughed together.
What a lovely way to find focus–zero in on a centerpiece. Thank you for this, Laurie. I don’t have one yet, but now my eyes are open and my antenna’s up. Love the rhythm of your phrasing–your posts are refreshing.
Blessings to you~
Hi Bethany, I am picturing your incomparable smile as I type an answer. Love the image I’m getting of you with antenna at attention. 🙂 And thank you, fellow writer, for pointing out a strength in my words. It means a lot to me.
May your next centerpiece find you soon and sweep you off your feet . . .
Thank you so much, Laurie. 🙂
You are so welcome! Praying just now for new opportunities for your creativity this week. And Happy Valentine’s Day to you and your beloved. 🙂
Oh, thank you, Laurie! I hope you had a lovely Valentine’s as well.
Such a soul-rich way to walk through our days. Centerpieces: those thoughts or words or items that drop into my life to bring light & peace will seem like they’re dusted with more beauty now–because I will receive them with the new mindset you’ve given in this beautiful message. Thank you.
Ah Carol, it’s lovely to hear from you today. Thank you for writing! And this word: “soul-rich” touches me. May light & peace envelop you in your daily round. So grateful the idea spoke to you. May the riches ripple onward and onward!
Stayed up late, into the early morning hours, actually, to keep the fire going. I don’t have to do this, but when the heaters go on, they sound like airplanes landing to one who is sound asleep. I don’t have to go to work, he does, so his is the uninterrupted sleep. Sandy-eyed, I come to the computer in my small world and look out. Then look again. There it is. I have my centerpiece, my vignette, right outside my window. Calm, quiet, solemn, with the dark and white evergreens, holding creature hidey-hole caves, the snow below and the grey above. The barely visible rain gives even more promise of green this summer. I still look on the bright side of all this wet. The only thing missing in my vignette is a neighborhood moose to enjoy it with me.
Peggy, your vivid description cast its spell over me just now, and I can almost see your dark-thirty vignette quietly rich with “promise.” I’m grateful to have read about your centerpiece today and recall earlier years when I stoked the stove in a drafty old house and absorbed that enveloping comfort of wood heat.
Love the way you think. Your hope is contagious. And the moose! Smiling over that as I type.
Laurie, You bless me with your smile. I can ‘see’ it now. Words are so potent.
They are indeed. As are smiles.
🙂