There may have been snow flurries on May 2, but anyway it’s a fact — spring has come to Novosibirsk!
The days are long, the trees full of pods and young leaves. New things are popping up all around, from baby birds in the bushes (I saw one the other day) to new menus in the cafes.
As it turns out, I’m also starting something new — namely a series of posts under the theme Beautiful Things, which officially begins with this post.
In each installment of Beautiful Things, I’ll feature — you guessed it– something beautiful. Sometimes I’ll feature lists or roundups, other times a single item. In any case, the idea is to showcase the beauty I find in the world.
Why? Two primary reasons:
- To inspire you — because this crazy world is very good at distracting us from what’s good and focusing us rather on what we don’t have (or what we do have that doesn’t happen to please us). Beauty has a tendency to pull us back toward higher things.
- To help me foster gratitude — because my spiritual director advised me to cultivate gratitude — and, therefore, joy — by meditating on God the Creator and seeking out beauty “even in this ugly gray city.”
To get the ball rolling, here’s a few Russian-themed beautiful things I’ve been meaning to share with you. Seems only appropriate. I live here, and Russia is pretty goshdarn beautiful at times.
1. Mountain Ash Trees (Рябины)
Mountain ash trees are almost my favorite tree ever — coming in a very close second to birches.
In summer they’re graceful and green. In autumn they’re golden, with clusters of brilliant red berries. In winter they remind me of Snow White — drops of blood-red against darkened branches and white snow.
Suffice it to say they’re good trees for all seasons. And as a bonus, here’s a lovely (though sad) Russian folksong about them, as sung by Lyudmila Zykina:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ag2mnawVuhA
2. Russian Sacred Music
I started listening to Russian sacred music just before moving to Siberia. On a trip to St. Vincent Archabbey I bought the CD Unto Ages of Ages (performed by Gloriae Dei Cantores) featuring recordings of works by Rachmaninoff, Sviridov, and Tchaikovsky, and as I listened to it on the drive home, I was astounded. The music was both meditative and dramatic, gentle and emotionally powerful.
Later I heard one of the works — Sviridov’s “Ineffable Mystery” — sung live in a concert hall in Novosibirsk, and it was so beautiful that I started to cry. That’s some powerful music, folks.
I highly recommend the CD I linked to above, but you can also surf around the Internet and find some other recordings. Try starting with Sviridov’s “Ineffable Mystery,” Rachmaninoff’s “All-Night Vigil,” and Tchaikovsky’s “Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom.”
3. Icons
There was a time I didn’t care for icons. Artistically the style was too “flat” and unrealistic, and I felt distanced from them rather than drawn in.
All of that changed several years ago, when a friend gave me an icon as a parting gift. It wasn’t Russian, nor Orthodox, but it was in the same style, and at first I just appreciated it as a gift and kept it in the living room of my new apartment.
As it turned out, that year was especially difficult for me. The icon became a kind of beacon — on the bad nights I would look up at it, contemplate it and feel deeply comforted. The scene was of the Beloved Disciple with Jesus at the Last Supper, and in the darkness I felt myself there with them, listening to Christ’s heartbeat. The strange style that had once pushed me away now invited me to contemplate a mystery.
Now I have that sensation whenever I see an icon, particularly of Christ Pantocrator, the Trinity, or the Mother of God. There’s a silence and benevolence in these ostensibly simple images that invites one to deeper reflection. If you haven’t “discovered” icons yet, I recommend spending some time in front of one of the images I listed above … preferably in a quiet place, a gallery or a church.
4. Wide Open Siberian Skies
At the end of my stay here in Novosibirsk, one thing I’ll be sorry to leave behind is the vast and breathtakingly beautiful Siberian sky.
Maybe that sounds strange to you — isn’t the sky the same everywhere?
It isn’t, I swear. There’s a quality to the sky here that gives an impression of endlessness I didn’t feel as often at home. Maybe it’s the flatter landscape, the higher sun, or the longer summer days … maybe it’s the way winds and storms sweep through so rapidly.
Anyway, I can’t get enough of it. The gradients of colors, the energy, the enormity.
I wish I had a better camera to capture it for you, but even then, I suppose it wouldn’t be the same. Come visit me in Siberia.
Or, failing that, lift your chin up to your own sky and admire it for what it is.
What do you see when you look up?
