The glow of the TV screen, the familiar 'More power!' echoing through the quiet house. Murphy snuggled up in a weirdly human arrangement on the couch. Adam and I are finding solace in the predictable chaos of 'Home Improvement.' This also means we get the little nuggets of wisdom from Tim-the-tool-man-Taylor’s neighbor Wilson. I remember watching often as a kid, when the kids are more relatable. Now watching as a spouse and parent, the whole show takes on a different resonance.
In an episode from season one, Wilson quotes Shakespeare’s Hamlet to Tim, “There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”
This quote helps us realize that the chaos in our lives are not a complete picture of what is a larger, unimaginable reality.
How many ways can you say the world often feels like it is falling apart? We find ways to ignore daily news alerts that raise our collective cortisol levels. There are serious budget concerns happening in Oregon’s public school system, which is impacting everyone I know who works in education. People are losing their jobs and others are getting displaced to different jobs and the rest of us are being asked to do the impossible with even fewer resources.
And yet, there is goodness. There has to be.
There is the sweet moment this morning when our growing-like-a-weed-almost-7-year-old Declan declared, “Put some music on! I gotta dance!” before it was even 7 a.m. twirling and jumping to Keith Urban’s “Somebody Like You” while it was still dark out. Have you ever dreamt of a pre-dawn dance party? His name means full-of-goodness.1
I made biscuits this morning2 and the kids double-dog-dared us to try the spiciest pepper jelly on the biscuits. Then Maeve, who is the best among us, double-dog-dared Adam to drink cold water so he could “have something nice and cool to cool your body down from all that spiciness.” Have you ever dreamt of daring someone to take care of their actual human needs? Goodness.
Often the abundance of Heaven and Earth is embodied in our delightful children. In the midst of the overwhelm, their laughter and joy, reminds me that even when the world feels like it's falling apart, there's still so much beauty and wonder to be found. If we dare to dream, just a bit, what else could we discover?
The future, like the vastness Shakespeare via Wilson describes, remains largely unknown. But within that unknown, there exists the potential for beauty, for connection, for moments of joy. Our children, with their boundless energy and unfiltered delight, are a testament to that potential. And as we navigate the complexities of our world, perhaps the most important lesson we can learn is to embrace the 'undreamt of,' to remain open to the unexpected goodness that surrounds us.
And also to find delight in the knowledge that, apparently, Adam and I relate far too much to 90s sitcom parents.
Apologies to the neighbors for the early morning music! :)