Blessedness

I just finished a book by Alexander McCall Smith. The library coded this book as a mystery; there is even a little "mystery" label on the spine of the book. For a good three-fourths of the book the most mysterious thing was the lack of mystery in the story. However, there was a wonderful passage I am going to quote and then comment on. I've been thinking about it all week. On a funny tangent, I read The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency by the same author a few years ago. I didn't love the book. I read the author's name as "Alexandra" for some reason (perhaps because the book was about a woman). Needless to say I was shocked to find a picture of said author on the back of this book, The Careful Use of Compliments. Mr. Smith is a very jaunty Scottish man, bespectacled and wearing a kilt! Anyway, you can't judge an author by his name, especially if you misread the name. On to the passage:

I am blessed, and being blessed is something more than just having something; it is a state of mind in which the good of the world is illuminated, is understood. It is as if one is vouchsafed a vision of some sort, she [Isabel, the main character] thought, a vision of love, of agape, of the essential value of each and every living thing.

For a moment, Isabel stood stock-still. There were vegetables on the board before here, ready for the knife, but she did not move; her hand was arrested in its movement, motionless. She was aware of a physical sensation, a sort of rushing within her and around her, a current, which seemed to fill her with warmth. She closed her eyes and, oddly, there was no darkness, just light; it was as if she were bathed in light both within and without.

She opened her eyes again. The ordinary material world was there, the vegetables, the sink, the unopened bottle of wine, the recipe book lying open a the page to which she had turned . . . everything. She breathed. The warmth, the feeling of suffusion had gone, and she felt that she was back in the same place . . . But she felt different; she felt that the world had suddenly become infinitely more precious to her. It was that simple, perhaps; there was just more love within her.

Where to begin! I love the masterful use of semicolons. I love the light imagery. Reading this passage made me think about the times, both recently and past, that I have felt this very way. Having Kara join our family made me feel this heightened sense of life and blessedness. Being done with the trial of pregnancy made me feel like life was more precious. I have felt, simply, more love within me at certain times. Another way to describe it would be an awareness and deep appreciation and satisfaction with the universe and my role in it. I know it sounds rather metaphysical or mystical, and maybe it is.

Last summer when we were camping in Petoskey, Michigan (home of the famous Petoskey stone), we (me, Kyle, Jillian, and Hayden) went down to the beach to watch the sunset. We perched our little family on a small sand dune. The wind was light and blew the grasses around. The kids ran up and down the dunes, laughing and playing, enjoying the new environment and the un-ending sand box. Kyle and I sat together and watched the water lap up against the shoreline of that particular part of Lake Michigan. I looked behind us and saw against the sky the moon, not full, but rising splendidly in the sky. Ahead of us was the lake, with the sun sinking down to the horizon. It wasn't a spectacular sunset, but the moment was truly awesome. I leaned my head back and saw the curvature of the earth, the moon, the sun, the water. I was with the people I love most in the world. It felt as though time stopped, sighed contentedly, and then began again. I felt blessed. I was glad to be reminded of times I have felt the state of blessedness as I read this book.

Amy