Sunshine, Balconies and Roaring Fires

I'm not sure what it is about balconies and verandahs that get me so excited but I just love them. I'd say it was the association with childhood sunny holidays in foreign hotels that caused this indiscriminate love but this seems unlikely due to the inherent problems of balconies in tents and the distinct lack of foreign travel (and consequently sunny holidays) that actually occurred in my childhood. Wherever it comes from my love of balconies is well known, at least to my husband Lindon. So much so that if they ever decided to make one of those 'don't tell the bride' type documentaries where the husband has to choose the family home without my input, Lindon would have hit the jackpot if he found a house with a balcony. It wouldn't matter how dilapidated the rest of the house was or how tiny the rooms, all he'd have to do would be to take me out on the balcony and I would be sold and everyone would marvel at his genius in making the right choice.

This morning I was lucky enough to be sitting on a balcony in Zurich, looking at the snowy Alps in the distance and feeling the warm sun on my skin. Three of my most favourite things, a balcony, a view and sunshine. There's something about these moments of pure pleasure and relaxation that restore and renew you in a way that nothing else can. The moments when you take a deep breath and everything is peaceful. The moments when you realise that there is more to life than all the chores and busyness of the day. The moments when you suddenly become aware that you are not the centre of the universe, in fact you are actually quite a small part of it, that the world continues to revolve even if you stop off for a moment. There are several situations that cultivate these feelings for me: sitting on a balcony (as i think i may have mentioned earlier :-)); looking out to sea; standing on top of a big hill; sitting in front of a roaring fire; lying on my back and looking at the stars; feeling the sun on my skin after a long miserable winter; a glorious sunset (and equally a sunrise though i admit to experiencing significantly less of these); looking around at a group of family and friends and realising there's no-where else I'd rather be. These are the moments when life makes sense.

These are also the moments when you start asking the right questions. Instead of asking 'what's for tea?' or 'what shall we do now?' we find room for the bigger questions- the important questions that somehow get crowded out and disregarded as we go about our everyday lives. It's in these moments, in the silence and the peace that we discover what's really important to us. It's in these moments that we become aware that we are more than just what we do and what we know. Our modern way of life has pushed God and spirituality out of our awareness. We scurry around, our busyness justifying our existence and giving us purpose but ultimately failing to fulfil our desire for significance and belonging. And then, every now and then, we stop. We see a fantastic view, we stop. We feel the warmth of the sun on our backs, we stop. We wrap our arms around someone we truly love, we stop. We stop, we take a deep breath  and we become aware of that simple truth that deep down we all know, and yet somehow we seem to be able to ignore most of the time, "There is more to life than what needs doing next, there is something bigger going on here."

These moments help us to embrace life. They encourage us to seek God, to seek purpose. They help us to re-assess our priorities and re-order our lives. They give us incentive to be a better person, a better wife, husband, parent. These moments are precious. Seek out the silence and the stillness and the deep breath moments.Walk up the big hill and take in the view. Sit outside on a clear night, wrapped in a blanket if you must, make time to sit still when the sun shows it's face. Ask the right questions and don't be too busy to seek out the answers.