Happy Monday! It felt more like spring than winter this past week in the Carolinas, so I played in my Garden of Weedin’ a little each day. It was good for the soul and nice to get some things planted because the weather is changing.

Speaking of changing … one of the Christmas gifts we gave each of our Grands this year was a sand art wheel. Maybe you’ve seen them?

They’re made of very fine sand and a liquid pressed between two plastic discs, held together by a rubber gasket. Air bubbles inside allow the sand to move when the wheel is inverted. The sand is different shades of blue, green, or purple, and each one has a scattering of gold that often filters to the top.

We wondered if the wheels would hold the interest of Grands who are used to the graphics and AI animation on their Tablets and school-issued Chromebooks. Remember last week when I mentioned keeping things simple? The Grands loved the sand art wheels. They were mesmerized by the shapes and designs formed by the shifting sand. They watched their own while also poking their siblings to get them to look at what was happening– ‘Look! A tree!’ ‘Mine’s a dinosaur … no a whale… no a dolphin!’ ‘Look at this wave crashing!’ ‘This is so cool!’

They had the patience to wait until the sand finally settled at the bottom again before flipping the disc over. Well, two out of the three did. Watching them reminded me of when I was a kid and lying in the yard watching shapes form in moving clouds. Hubby and I hoped the sand art wheels would be as relaxing for the Grands, and give their eyes a break from their screens.

As you can see, Santa brought me a sand art wheel, too. Mine’s purple. It sits by my recliner and I turn it a few times every evening. It’s intriguing to watch. The blending of the colors sometimes swirl, and sometimes look like smoke puffing. Like all ‘good things’ the gold most often rises to the top forming a glittery crust. I see how one small bubble rising–a sphere of little or nothing but air–can move the sand and how a gathering of bubbles linked together causes whole sections to shift.

While I’ve seen waves, mostly what I see are landscapes. Some remind me of the badlands of South Dakota with their starkness but still enough contrast to form shadows. Others take me right back to the Camino with images of mountains and a narrow footpath winding between them. Saturday night as I tweaked this post it became a mountain range peeking–or peaking–through clouds. You can probably understand why I like mine.

During Advent, one of the prayers for the day was, ‘Dear God, remind us today and always that every time we change our minds, we also change the world.’ In journaling about that simple prayer, I first thought about it only like a New Year’s resolution with all the positive ways we change our minds that effect the world–I’ll be kinder; I’ll make more of an effort to reach out to friends; I’ll react out of love instead of knee-jerking anger. As I sat here Saturday night, I saw each of those decisions as small bubbles that can make small differences in the whole picture, as a way of spreading hope.

But the more I journaled, I realized the opposite is also true. We can change our minds in ways that bring about negative outcomes. We can hold on to things that are best let go of. We can ignore our gut. But then what are we missing, how are we not growing, what new shapes and images do we not bring into the world?

The prayer doesn’t really state one way or the other. So, is it a reminder–or a warning–that our attitude/choices/changes of mind not only affect ourselves, but also those around us.

 It would be lovely if we could change our minds as easily as inverting a sand art wheel. At least it’s not always that easy for me! Yet, I look at those single little bubbles and I’m reminded that even individually we can make a difference, even a small one. But when those bubbles clump together, they move mountains. And so can we.

I highly doubt my Grands see all that watching their sand shift into trees, animals, and landscapes, but I hope the designs nurture their imaginations and deepen their dreams, and maybe, one day …

Last evening at our monthly peace gathering, this was the song they played, One Day by Matisyahu.

Well, even though I played in the dirt like it was springtime last week, our Christmas tree still glitters and twinkles as if it’s still the season. It lightens my heart. I hope this week, especially this week, you discover shapes and images that lighten your heart. Let us clump together our bubbles and change the world. I’ll be back at my window on Monday, I hope you will be too. I hope you have a good week.