A few years ago, my elder daughter Kira shared something she came across in her reading: “There are three things you can watch forever: fire burning, water flowing, and someone else working.”
As is an occupational hazard of mine, I immediately modified the last item to “someone doing a good job.” I expanded on this idea: “When you are doing your best, others want you to succeed!” I repeat this each time the dishwasher is being cleared. During these moments, the family member tasked with putting away the items is usually helped by at least one other family member (often the maternal or paternal unit, or both).
Let’s look at “There are three things you can watch forever: fire burning, water flowing, and someone doing a good job.” in the context of this winter in Hout Bay, where we live.
Fire Burning
Our fireplace is lit often, and there’s just something magical about
sitting in front of it. Of course, not everyone can have the best spot,
so it comes with a bit of negotiation, being adamant, and getting there
first. For the past three days, I have been sleeping in front of it,
just to wake up first—that’s me doing a good job.
Water Flowing
It’s been raining and pouring these past weeks. Besides being wet and
cold (see above need for warmth), the foliage is green and growing
abundantly. That’s the trade-off living here, and I’d like to share some
of the conundrums I notice (warning: all first-world problems that our
family faces):
- Winter rain revives the gardens and public spaces to lush green, but you don’t venture outdoors as much.
- Summer is hot and dry—best to visit the outdoors—but the garden needs regular watering.
- Winter sun isn’t shining enough to charge our solar panels, yet we use more electricity for lighting and heating.
- Summer sun is at full blast and solar panels are at peak efficiency, but energy demand is lowest then for essential comfort.
Someone Doing a Good Job
This starts by first noticing someone, then looking for what they are
doing well. Most times, simple awareness and unconditional positive
regard are enough to bring a smile and make a connection. We can all do a
better job of acknowledging others—and ourselves.
On that note, my younger daughter just came in (9:40 a.m.), and I gave her my spot in front of the fireplace. She suddenly shared a poem with her mischievous wit and good effort, so I’m including it here:
Sunday Poetry from Erin
The only sounds in the house are the fire crackling,
the keyboard keys click-clacking,
as both parents refuse to talk to each other.
Erin mourns for the loss of her father and mother.
I end my click-clacking here to watch the fire, listen to the rain outside, and continue doing a good job—while finding moments to praise and guide others to further success.