Roiling with the Punches

Ponderings from my notepad… 

“During Lent, (ponderers) are supposed to ask one way or another what it means to be themselves.” Frederick Buechner

“A person who toils more than her body can bear is rendered useless in her spirit by ill-judged roil and abstinence. Living hopelessly and joylessly, that person’s sense often fails.” Hildegard of Bingen

“Write a scene about an intriguing towel.” Sarah Selecky (Write for at least 10 minutes. Write by hand, in your notebook.)

The towel read, ROIL. Lucille roiled with anger at the mere sight of it. What more did Life expect from her? She’d spent decades learning to ground herself and find solid footing, but now she felt like her furry cat who clumsily attempted to gain traction on the slippery notebook she’d held in her hand only moments earlier.

Roil – to be vexed and perplexed. Yes, she was indeed perplexed. All her sense of well-being escaping as her fluidity lessened and the stiffness in her hips screamed with rigidity.

Roil? Indeed. It sounded like royal, but she felt anything other than royal these days. Maybe she could shift one tiny letter, making it ROLL instead. Ah yes, that felt better. Could she roll with the circumstances rather than taking everything so seriously and being vexed at every turn? What if she made light of her situation and brought compassion instead of judgment?

Roil. Was it a command or a reminder to let go… to do the opposite… to recognize the ridiculousness of even imagining her current circumstances had no impact?

Roil with the punches. A smile crossed her face and the tightness in her posterior shifted. Roil. ‘Yes that’s exactly what I’ll do today,’ she spoke. Then she confidently lifted the towel from the rack and wrapped it around her shower-soaked hips…

…and with a little shimmy she roiled into her day.