My husband and I work hard at our marriage. We've learned to communicate well (at least I think so), we don't let things fester, we don't expect each other to read one another's mind (well, he doesn't expect me to, but if I'm honest here, I do sometimes expect him to read mine). We don't take ourselves too seriously, we laugh a lot, we try to make time in the midst of the busy-ness to "connect", to sit in one another's presence without a bunch of distractions (children, TV, computer, the newspaper) and just talk about what's going on. Some weeks we are better about it than other and that is just the nature of marriage. It's a dance...you move in and out of sync, and the times when you move out of sync, you are aware of it and do what you need to set it back on the right track.
Anyways, despite all of that, we probably don't make enough time to get away, just the two of us, without our little munchkins.
It was our anniversary yesterday, 11 years and going strong. We decided a couple of weeks ago we should try and get away for the weekend, or at least a night and we actually made it happen. I always think it sounds good in theory and then get caught up in the details of making the arrangements and seem to get stuck. So, I arranged for the child care and Sean took care of the plans, where we would go and stay. We left home about 10 am on Saturday and headed south toward the Gorge. It was pouring down rain, which didn't seem to dampen our mood in the least. The freedom of being away and having one another's full attention and company is such a treat. I think sometimes I forget how much I LIKE my husband. I always love him, of course, but sometimes I forget how much fun he is, how he can make me laugh, and smile and feel happy about life. We stopped in at Maryhill Winery for some wine tasting. The view is amazing and the sun decided to peek out from behind the clouds for a bit We then journeyed on, over the Columbia River to Hood River where we spent the afternoon at a brew pub. We sat at the bar and made friends with our neighbors, shared our pizza with one of them and left feeling full. We walked around Hood River holding hands, ate Gelatto from a street vendor and talked about why some cities have what my friend calls "animation" and others don't. You can feel when you walk into a place whether it has it or not. I guess its the same with people, when you meet someone, its usually evident from the get go whether or not they have animation. Certain places attract those kind of people and I think Hood River is one of them. You get that vibe, good energy, like people are doing things, things are happening. I don't know exactly how to put words to it, but if you are the least bit in touch with energy...you know what I am talking about.
It was finally late afternoon and so we headed to our hotel back across the river in White Salmon. We stayed at the same place a year ago, for our 10th anniversary. It's a small hotel, very sweet. It's across the street from a yoga studio they give you a free pass for, so they kind of get me with that. The last time we were in White Salmon everyone raved about a restaurant Henni's that we didn't make it to, so after a nice afternoon siesta, we headed out for dinner. It was delicious and serendipitous. During our meal, we heard the couple next to us telling the waiter they were celebrating their 59th anniversary. The waiter remarked how sweet it was to see a couple still enjoying one another's company after all those years. We congratulated them and told them we too were celebrating our anniversary. As we prepared to leave, Sean got up and paid for their bottle of wine. He, of course, didn't tell me, although I had a hunch as to what he was doing. He asked the waiter to not tell them until we were gone and we went on our way. My heart swelled....one of the many reasons why I love this man...his generosity, his kindness and his lack of ego.
We were talking as we walked back to the hotel later in the evening about how we should have asked them the secret to their success. As chance (and not many hotel options in that small town) would have it, the couple was staying at the same hotel, just down the hall. We crossed paths the next morning as we returned from yoga class and the man asked if we were the couple from dinner. He told us how surprised they were and that such acts of thoughtfulness make life better. I asked him what was the secret to their long marriage. "A little bit of luck, I think, and lots of support, from family and friends alike." Lucky us, we've definitely got all that.
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Thursday, June 21, 2012
The dark and the light
For the last several years, I have celebrated the summer solstice by doing 108 sun salutations. This year, my Wednesday night yoga class fell on the solstice, but for whatever reason, I did not plan in advance to change my class into the annual ritual. When it dawned on me yesterday, that it was the summer solstice, I figured I could just base my class around sun salutations and find another way to acknowledge and honor another season of life.
As I sat down to prepare for class, I contemplated the significance of the occasion. It happens every year. I wait all spring for summer to come, for longer days, a more carefree season, more time with my kids, less of a schedule and what feels to me like more freedom. There is something about these long days of summer that give me the feeling we have all the time in the world, time for all of it.
In actuality, the summer solstice is the longest day of the year. As we usher in this season of warmth and light, the darkness is just beginning to set in. The summer solstice marks the days getting shorter. The word solstice comes from the 2 Latin words, sol and stice. Sol obviously means sun and the stice means in essence to stand still. The solstice is the day when the sun stands still, if only momentarily. We are reminded of the impermanence of all things. Even the seasons, the long days, the light doesn't stay for long. Eventually the darkness creeps back in. As I pondered all this, I began to think about life and the parallels between the light and the dark. Most of us want to live in the light, the place where we find clarity, where we feel brilliant, enlightened. Inevitably the light creates a shadow, the darkness. It follows us wherever we go. The only time we can't see our shadow is when we are in the dark, the place most of us don't want to reside.
I guess what I am getting at is I see this ritual of honoring the sun, as a way to honor our own light our own brilliance, the sun of our own spirit that we can shine upon the world around us. I found myself very emotional as I moved through my class last night. One woman in the front row was full of tears and another came to me at the end of class and thanked me, "that was something special" she said. I'm not sure what it was that spoke to me last night...the songs in my playlist all with a theme of the sun or light, or just the combination of bright souls in the room, our collective breath and hearts beating. I left feeling very full, thankful for the times when the light illuminates the shadow and we feel confident, certain of our place in the world and our ability to bring light to the lives of others. Happy Summer Solstice...I hope you find your light shining bright.
As I sat down to prepare for class, I contemplated the significance of the occasion. It happens every year. I wait all spring for summer to come, for longer days, a more carefree season, more time with my kids, less of a schedule and what feels to me like more freedom. There is something about these long days of summer that give me the feeling we have all the time in the world, time for all of it.
In actuality, the summer solstice is the longest day of the year. As we usher in this season of warmth and light, the darkness is just beginning to set in. The summer solstice marks the days getting shorter. The word solstice comes from the 2 Latin words, sol and stice. Sol obviously means sun and the stice means in essence to stand still. The solstice is the day when the sun stands still, if only momentarily. We are reminded of the impermanence of all things. Even the seasons, the long days, the light doesn't stay for long. Eventually the darkness creeps back in. As I pondered all this, I began to think about life and the parallels between the light and the dark. Most of us want to live in the light, the place where we find clarity, where we feel brilliant, enlightened. Inevitably the light creates a shadow, the darkness. It follows us wherever we go. The only time we can't see our shadow is when we are in the dark, the place most of us don't want to reside.
I guess what I am getting at is I see this ritual of honoring the sun, as a way to honor our own light our own brilliance, the sun of our own spirit that we can shine upon the world around us. I found myself very emotional as I moved through my class last night. One woman in the front row was full of tears and another came to me at the end of class and thanked me, "that was something special" she said. I'm not sure what it was that spoke to me last night...the songs in my playlist all with a theme of the sun or light, or just the combination of bright souls in the room, our collective breath and hearts beating. I left feeling very full, thankful for the times when the light illuminates the shadow and we feel confident, certain of our place in the world and our ability to bring light to the lives of others. Happy Summer Solstice...I hope you find your light shining bright.
Saturday, May 26, 2012
Running Wild
I am not sure what inspired me to sit down today and type after my 5 month hiatus, but here I am sitting on my couch, fingers plucking away at the keyboard, hopeful I can crank an entry out and get back on the blogging road again.
Last time I wrote, I was running. I wasn't just running, I was training for a marathon. I was dedicated, committed and loved the running. I worked my way up to 18 miles and then my body began to fall apart, break down. I could feel myself getting weaker not stronger, but my drive and determination made me keep at it....for awhile. I eventually ended up in physical therapy and found myself working on core stabilization (tell me if that doesn't speak of needing to get centered). The truth is, as much as I loved the running, I also felt like it was making me crazy. I felt mentally scattered, thoughts running wild, unfocused (on anything other than running) and like my mind had become very cluttered. I felt itchy in my own skin, not physically, but unsettled, restless. I couldn't get my body to cooperate and had to stop running. I resisted, at first, hopeful if I just backed off for a bit, I would be able to come back with a vengeance and still be able to run the marathon. Eventually, I was forced to face the reality that not only had I lost a LOT of ground, I just physically was not capable of enduring the pain that continuing to run involved and that I needed to let go. I needed to put my ego aside and take care of myself.
I found myself agitated, more restless, hungry for an outlet for the energy I had been channeling in to my running, but as the days passed I began to let go. I began spending more time at home, more time in the yard, started walking in the mornings again and little by little I found myself. I began to peel back these layers of labels I had wrapped myself in and found that sitting still in the middle of me felt much better than I thought.
I'm not sure if this is making or sense, or if I am even telling the story, I am trying to tell. Like increases like. I am someone who has a tendency to be imbalanced in the way of doing too much. Going and doing, instead of just being. Some people suffer from the opposite, too much sitting and being, not enough doing or momentum to get going. I don't think running becomes me, at least not in the way I was doing it. I am prone to fill my plate, have lots of things going on. I have 3 jobs, for goodness sake, am in a book club, lead a study group. I am not any busier than anyone else, we all have the same amount of time, I know, but my tendency is too schedule it full and to go and do. It has felt really good to slow down, have more free time, more down time, more unscheduled time. I feel like it helps me to stay grounded, to feel in balance. Sometimes when we are in the midst of these seasons, the ebb and flow of life, it isn't easy to see what is happening. It's so close to us, that we can't get a clear picture. As I have stepped back, let go, settled in, I see that the running was part of a lesson for me, a journey toward finding more balance, more space in my life to create and recreate. Something most of us could always use more of...
Last time I wrote, I was running. I wasn't just running, I was training for a marathon. I was dedicated, committed and loved the running. I worked my way up to 18 miles and then my body began to fall apart, break down. I could feel myself getting weaker not stronger, but my drive and determination made me keep at it....for awhile. I eventually ended up in physical therapy and found myself working on core stabilization (tell me if that doesn't speak of needing to get centered). The truth is, as much as I loved the running, I also felt like it was making me crazy. I felt mentally scattered, thoughts running wild, unfocused (on anything other than running) and like my mind had become very cluttered. I felt itchy in my own skin, not physically, but unsettled, restless. I couldn't get my body to cooperate and had to stop running. I resisted, at first, hopeful if I just backed off for a bit, I would be able to come back with a vengeance and still be able to run the marathon. Eventually, I was forced to face the reality that not only had I lost a LOT of ground, I just physically was not capable of enduring the pain that continuing to run involved and that I needed to let go. I needed to put my ego aside and take care of myself.
I found myself agitated, more restless, hungry for an outlet for the energy I had been channeling in to my running, but as the days passed I began to let go. I began spending more time at home, more time in the yard, started walking in the mornings again and little by little I found myself. I began to peel back these layers of labels I had wrapped myself in and found that sitting still in the middle of me felt much better than I thought.
I'm not sure if this is making or sense, or if I am even telling the story, I am trying to tell. Like increases like. I am someone who has a tendency to be imbalanced in the way of doing too much. Going and doing, instead of just being. Some people suffer from the opposite, too much sitting and being, not enough doing or momentum to get going. I don't think running becomes me, at least not in the way I was doing it. I am prone to fill my plate, have lots of things going on. I have 3 jobs, for goodness sake, am in a book club, lead a study group. I am not any busier than anyone else, we all have the same amount of time, I know, but my tendency is too schedule it full and to go and do. It has felt really good to slow down, have more free time, more down time, more unscheduled time. I feel like it helps me to stay grounded, to feel in balance. Sometimes when we are in the midst of these seasons, the ebb and flow of life, it isn't easy to see what is happening. It's so close to us, that we can't get a clear picture. As I have stepped back, let go, settled in, I see that the running was part of a lesson for me, a journey toward finding more balance, more space in my life to create and recreate. Something most of us could always use more of...
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Virtual Insanity?
"Virtual insanity is what we're living in." Jamiroquoi
My husband is hot for a smart phone. I'm not so sure. I feel like I already have a tendency to be plugged in more than necessary and being able to carry that access around with me everywhere I go might not be a good thing.
Some time ago, one of my cousins posted something on facebook about why she was spending time on it as opposed to living life. It caught my attention, as did one of the responses, which suggested that it was because she is a people person and it makes her feel connected. I think that is true, but connected to what?
At a yoga training last fall, the teacher told us to notice where we spend our time when we aren't feeling so good and where we are when we do feel good. Most likely we spend less time in front of the screen when all is well and more time in front of it when we don't feel so good or are seeking something we are actually not likely to find there.
I struggle with the whole technology piece in general. I don't like for my kids to watch a lot of TV and of course, I have kids that beg for it, love it and always want more. We never have the latest gadgets or technology, we don't have cable or flat screen TVs or smartphones, and I think I like it that way. I get why my husband wants those things, but I feel this strong resistance to it. I'm frugal (or maybe cheap?) too and I don't want to spend money on things that we don't really need.
When I sit back and look at it, the problem really isn't the technology, it's me. It's my inability to cut myself off from it or set healthy boundaries for how much and when. I decided in the new year I would only check my email, facebook, etc twice a day. I haven't followed it. I did for a few days and quite honestly it is much more interesting to open your email when there is something worth looking at. When you only do it once or twice a day, chances are better there will be. My draw toward this stuff is that feeling of being connected, the desire to feel like part of something greater than myself. I don't have any answers really, other than, maybe I should work on being out of control on this one. Maybe I should get on board with my husband and his smartphone dreams (being able to send a text without it taking 10 minutes to compose) and maybe I should figure out how to leave it alone and live smart. Life isn't going to happen without me if I'm living it... that's virtual insanity.
My husband is hot for a smart phone. I'm not so sure. I feel like I already have a tendency to be plugged in more than necessary and being able to carry that access around with me everywhere I go might not be a good thing.
Some time ago, one of my cousins posted something on facebook about why she was spending time on it as opposed to living life. It caught my attention, as did one of the responses, which suggested that it was because she is a people person and it makes her feel connected. I think that is true, but connected to what?
At a yoga training last fall, the teacher told us to notice where we spend our time when we aren't feeling so good and where we are when we do feel good. Most likely we spend less time in front of the screen when all is well and more time in front of it when we don't feel so good or are seeking something we are actually not likely to find there.
I struggle with the whole technology piece in general. I don't like for my kids to watch a lot of TV and of course, I have kids that beg for it, love it and always want more. We never have the latest gadgets or technology, we don't have cable or flat screen TVs or smartphones, and I think I like it that way. I get why my husband wants those things, but I feel this strong resistance to it. I'm frugal (or maybe cheap?) too and I don't want to spend money on things that we don't really need.
When I sit back and look at it, the problem really isn't the technology, it's me. It's my inability to cut myself off from it or set healthy boundaries for how much and when. I decided in the new year I would only check my email, facebook, etc twice a day. I haven't followed it. I did for a few days and quite honestly it is much more interesting to open your email when there is something worth looking at. When you only do it once or twice a day, chances are better there will be. My draw toward this stuff is that feeling of being connected, the desire to feel like part of something greater than myself. I don't have any answers really, other than, maybe I should work on being out of control on this one. Maybe I should get on board with my husband and his smartphone dreams (being able to send a text without it taking 10 minutes to compose) and maybe I should figure out how to leave it alone and live smart. Life isn't going to happen without me if I'm living it... that's virtual insanity.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Rab
Every kid has their lovie, that tangible piece of cloth that makes them feel safe, secure. Rumor has it, my husband or his brother (can't remember which) had a cloth diaper for a lovie. They go everywhere with you and are often a source of stress, when you leave them behind, or misplace it somewhere. Some kids attach to one thing, others have a multitude of lovies, the favorite changing from day to day.
As a toddler, my oldest daughter had a kitty, a blankie and a binkie. Binkie was as much a lovie as the other two, but at some point you have to give that thing up. Most kids reach a natural parting of ways with their lovie, I think (some later in life than others) and the problem with the binkie is that it has other repurcussions, such as messing with your teeth if you suck on it all night. At 2, we decided it was time for Ruby to give it up. My husband made up a story about the "Binkie Bird" (I don't recommed this approach, by the way). He told her that the Binkie Bird would come and take her bink and give it to some other child in need and sure enough one day her binkies disappeared. Oh, how she cried. That binkie bird scared her and she was so heart broken. I wanted to make her feel better, but I didn't want to back track, so I gave her my childhood lovie...dear old Rab.
Rab was once a stuffed animal, white fluffy, lovable. I loved him so much over the years that he became a mass of worn out dirty gray cotton. My mom patched him up each time he lost an eye, (replacing his plastic parts with cloth) or wore a hole in his fur, at one point I carried around one of his feet as my lucky rabbit's foot. He looked haggered and when I was 12, I finally decided it was time to retire him. My mom helped me make a cloth box for him to permanently rest in (aka a cozy coffin). Rumor has it when I was 4 or 5 I dropped Rab in an airport parking lot one rainy night and my mom had to go back and find him because I couldn't sleep without him. I vividly remember lying in bed with Rab as a kid, telling him my troubles. There was this one patch on his back that I could stick my finger in and feel his insides. For whatever reason, that was a great source of comfort for me.
When I gave Rab to Ruby, she loved him immediately, but she also wondered a little about the looks of the ol' boy, tattered and torn, loved to pieces, literally. What was left of his body lived inside a little blue and white gingham bag and his head was the only part of him that stuck out of the bag, sort of in tact enough to be out. At some point in the last few years, Rab got attacked by our dog. He lost an ear, half his face and his insides were really torn to bits. His dirty stuffing looked like strings of something, he was a mess. I think she cried when she found him, but she put him in his trusty little box and he lived on her bookshelf or under her bed, or wherever else the many stuffed animals she has go.
This Christmas, out of the blue, she wrote in her letter to Santa that what she wanted was for Rab to get a new face, for him to be put back together like new. At 11 pm on Christmas Eve, I didn't have it in me to attempt anything of that sort (no supermom award here) and Santa didn't bring his sewing machine when he came by. She had placed Rab at the end of her bed, safely tucked in for the night, I'm sure with high hopes of waking in the morning to a new and improved Rab.
I asked my mom on Christmas morning if she might help me attempt a Rab reconstruction in the near future. Of course, she said yes. On Monday, my daughter came home from Mamma's (my mom's) full of excitement. They had been working on Rab, making him a new face. Yesterday afternoon, my mom showed up after work with the new Rab. I hugged him to my chest and almost cried. Ruby was thrilled, slept with him last night and told me how much she loved him and that he smelled like Mamma. She even knew that his cheeks were colored from Mamma's lipstick. "Smell it," she said, "doesn't it smell just like her?" You could see in her eyes the comfort she found in him. I know it isn't so much Rab, as it is the idea of him, the love that was poured in to his revival and the Mamma who would go to the ends of the earth to satisfy that little girl's heart's desire. Thank you, Mamma, what would we do without you?
As a toddler, my oldest daughter had a kitty, a blankie and a binkie. Binkie was as much a lovie as the other two, but at some point you have to give that thing up. Most kids reach a natural parting of ways with their lovie, I think (some later in life than others) and the problem with the binkie is that it has other repurcussions, such as messing with your teeth if you suck on it all night. At 2, we decided it was time for Ruby to give it up. My husband made up a story about the "Binkie Bird" (I don't recommed this approach, by the way). He told her that the Binkie Bird would come and take her bink and give it to some other child in need and sure enough one day her binkies disappeared. Oh, how she cried. That binkie bird scared her and she was so heart broken. I wanted to make her feel better, but I didn't want to back track, so I gave her my childhood lovie...dear old Rab.
Rab was once a stuffed animal, white fluffy, lovable. I loved him so much over the years that he became a mass of worn out dirty gray cotton. My mom patched him up each time he lost an eye, (replacing his plastic parts with cloth) or wore a hole in his fur, at one point I carried around one of his feet as my lucky rabbit's foot. He looked haggered and when I was 12, I finally decided it was time to retire him. My mom helped me make a cloth box for him to permanently rest in (aka a cozy coffin). Rumor has it when I was 4 or 5 I dropped Rab in an airport parking lot one rainy night and my mom had to go back and find him because I couldn't sleep without him. I vividly remember lying in bed with Rab as a kid, telling him my troubles. There was this one patch on his back that I could stick my finger in and feel his insides. For whatever reason, that was a great source of comfort for me.
When I gave Rab to Ruby, she loved him immediately, but she also wondered a little about the looks of the ol' boy, tattered and torn, loved to pieces, literally. What was left of his body lived inside a little blue and white gingham bag and his head was the only part of him that stuck out of the bag, sort of in tact enough to be out. At some point in the last few years, Rab got attacked by our dog. He lost an ear, half his face and his insides were really torn to bits. His dirty stuffing looked like strings of something, he was a mess. I think she cried when she found him, but she put him in his trusty little box and he lived on her bookshelf or under her bed, or wherever else the many stuffed animals she has go.
This Christmas, out of the blue, she wrote in her letter to Santa that what she wanted was for Rab to get a new face, for him to be put back together like new. At 11 pm on Christmas Eve, I didn't have it in me to attempt anything of that sort (no supermom award here) and Santa didn't bring his sewing machine when he came by. She had placed Rab at the end of her bed, safely tucked in for the night, I'm sure with high hopes of waking in the morning to a new and improved Rab.
I asked my mom on Christmas morning if she might help me attempt a Rab reconstruction in the near future. Of course, she said yes. On Monday, my daughter came home from Mamma's (my mom's) full of excitement. They had been working on Rab, making him a new face. Yesterday afternoon, my mom showed up after work with the new Rab. I hugged him to my chest and almost cried. Ruby was thrilled, slept with him last night and told me how much she loved him and that he smelled like Mamma. She even knew that his cheeks were colored from Mamma's lipstick. "Smell it," she said, "doesn't it smell just like her?" You could see in her eyes the comfort she found in him. I know it isn't so much Rab, as it is the idea of him, the love that was poured in to his revival and the Mamma who would go to the ends of the earth to satisfy that little girl's heart's desire. Thank you, Mamma, what would we do without you?
Monday, January 2, 2012
the Little one
As Shakespeare said..."the blessedness of being small." My little peanut, Elsie Lea, turns 2 this week. It's hard to believe and yet it also feels hard to remember life before her or without her. Every child brings something special to the world, of course, and this one is no exception. She is such a child of joy...happy, playful, affectionate, loving, mischevious....and many other qualities. I feel like my words don't do her justice. I am so very grateful to have her in our lives. I wrote a poem for her last year and another one last night. Here they are....
2011: My little E - all wrapped up
a short 12 months ago
you were all wrapped up in me
my big, round belly your home
the only place you knew
and then, you
were you
separate from me
still part fo the same being,
yet your own
a walking, talking, crying, singing, laughing
you
just you
all your own
not mine, not ours
just yours
beautiful and sweet
gentle and bold
now we are
all wrapped up in you.
2012: my sweet and spicy
you are many things wrapped
into one little bundle of goodness
you are sweet, snuggly
love to be held and touched,
cradled like a baby
to have your back scratched
your hair combed
you are mighty and fierce
strong willed and determined
independent and fearless
you are joy and laughter
your playful spirit
contagious and inviting
you are shy
you are bold
you are love
you are loved
sweet Elsie Belle.
2011: My little E - all wrapped up
a short 12 months ago
you were all wrapped up in me
my big, round belly your home
the only place you knew
and then, you
were you
separate from me
still part fo the same being,
yet your own
a walking, talking, crying, singing, laughing
you
just you
all your own
not mine, not ours
just yours
beautiful and sweet
gentle and bold
now we are
all wrapped up in you.
2012: my sweet and spicy
you are many things wrapped
into one little bundle of goodness
you are sweet, snuggly
love to be held and touched,
cradled like a baby
to have your back scratched
your hair combed
you are mighty and fierce
strong willed and determined
independent and fearless
you are joy and laughter
your playful spirit
contagious and inviting
you are shy
you are bold
you are love
you are loved
sweet Elsie Belle.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Out of Control?
Happy New Year! 2012...and the world has not yet ended, hallelujah, I have a marathon to run this year!
My family spent the evening with several other families, eating, drinking and being merry. It was a great evening. I was riding the high of my longest run yet, 10.5 miles. Felt like a great way to end a year, accomplishing something on the way to something bigger, right? I ran in the afternoon, felt great when I was done (aside from an achy joint here or there). I was feeling festive, excited to celebrate.
I was chatting with another runner at the party, one who runs 4 to 5 marathons a year and in the course of our conversation he said, "well, you are obviously a type A person." I, incredulously replied, "Me?" For the record, I have never thought of myself as type A and quite frankly think of it as a negative quality. He replies, "You wouldn't be out there running, preparing for a marathon if you weren't." I was stunned. It isn't the first time my own perception of myself has been altered, but I was definitely not eager to take this label on.
Later in the evening, as I sat with two of my girlfriends, I shared the story. They both laughed and said, "you are totally type A." Say what? I, of course, asked them what type A is then and they described it as being driven, "liking to be in control", and I can't remember what else because I attached to the liking to be in control part and couldn't let that go. I think it took up most of the space in my brain for the following 15 minutes.
I looked up what type A is today and learned that type A and type B personality theory was developed in the 1950s as a way to determine risk for future heart disease. Those that are type A (in case you also are curious) are described as ambitious, aggressive, controlling, highly competitive, impatient, preoccupied with status, and tightly wound, just to name a few. And type B is the opposite of that, patient, relaxed, easy-going, and at times lacking an overriding sense of urgency. Maybe we can't put people in these two boxes. I would definitely like to think I possess qualities of both.
But...it is a new year and a time to invite in to our lives what we want and a time to usher out what no longer serves us. What stuck out most for me in this whole Type A conversation, was my friend describing me as someone who likes to be in control. As much as I did not like to hear myself described that way, I have to admit there is truth in it. I do like to be in control, I often think I know best and I like to know what's in store. I'm not a big fan of change (I can't control it, right?) and I am not exactly the most spontaneous person I know. And so, what am I to do with this new self awareness at 38? My goal for 2012 is to be less attached, to let go, and to learn to find some freedom in not being in control. How's that for a new year's resolution...to be out of control?
My family spent the evening with several other families, eating, drinking and being merry. It was a great evening. I was riding the high of my longest run yet, 10.5 miles. Felt like a great way to end a year, accomplishing something on the way to something bigger, right? I ran in the afternoon, felt great when I was done (aside from an achy joint here or there). I was feeling festive, excited to celebrate.
I was chatting with another runner at the party, one who runs 4 to 5 marathons a year and in the course of our conversation he said, "well, you are obviously a type A person." I, incredulously replied, "Me?" For the record, I have never thought of myself as type A and quite frankly think of it as a negative quality. He replies, "You wouldn't be out there running, preparing for a marathon if you weren't." I was stunned. It isn't the first time my own perception of myself has been altered, but I was definitely not eager to take this label on.
Later in the evening, as I sat with two of my girlfriends, I shared the story. They both laughed and said, "you are totally type A." Say what? I, of course, asked them what type A is then and they described it as being driven, "liking to be in control", and I can't remember what else because I attached to the liking to be in control part and couldn't let that go. I think it took up most of the space in my brain for the following 15 minutes.
I looked up what type A is today and learned that type A and type B personality theory was developed in the 1950s as a way to determine risk for future heart disease. Those that are type A (in case you also are curious) are described as ambitious, aggressive, controlling, highly competitive, impatient, preoccupied with status, and tightly wound, just to name a few. And type B is the opposite of that, patient, relaxed, easy-going, and at times lacking an overriding sense of urgency. Maybe we can't put people in these two boxes. I would definitely like to think I possess qualities of both.
But...it is a new year and a time to invite in to our lives what we want and a time to usher out what no longer serves us. What stuck out most for me in this whole Type A conversation, was my friend describing me as someone who likes to be in control. As much as I did not like to hear myself described that way, I have to admit there is truth in it. I do like to be in control, I often think I know best and I like to know what's in store. I'm not a big fan of change (I can't control it, right?) and I am not exactly the most spontaneous person I know. And so, what am I to do with this new self awareness at 38? My goal for 2012 is to be less attached, to let go, and to learn to find some freedom in not being in control. How's that for a new year's resolution...to be out of control?
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Do good, feel good, be good...
I am 38 today. I don't know what I expected 38 to feel like, but it wasn't this. Not in a bad way, I just keep thinking...dang girl...38, that is so close to 40. So, I am guessing that somewhere in my mind 40 seemed old at some point in time. I think back to my mom at 38, it was when she had my brother, and she didn't seem old then, but somewhere in my 20s, 40 seemed older, more mature, I guess. I don't know where I thought I'd be or what I'd be doing, but as I drove in my car today with my 3 kiddos buckled in their carseats (the older 2 arguing with each other and the little one singing to herself), I couldn't think of someplace else in life I'd want to be really. There is so much to be joyful about when I sit in the present. When I look around at all I have to be grateful for, all my family is blessed with, it puts a smile on my face and often tears in my eyes.
Maybe it's been knowing this birthday is coming, or maybe I have just looked a little closer at myself in the mirror, but I have noticed more wrinkles on my face lately. Last week my son told me my neck was getting old recently, kind of "scrunchy, you know". The funny thing is that I feel healthier than I've ever been. I'm training for a marathon and running again after about an 8 year hiatus. My body feels like its in good shape, strong, I feel like I'm at my prime in some ways, full of potential. I contemplate the next 38 years on the horizon and think...yes, my body will probably start breaking down from here on out (it's probably already started to), and so I better take good care of it, be kind to it, its the only one I've got. I hope that isn't the case with my mind. Hopefully, it's the opposite, it continues to find more clarity, less struggle, more ease, less suffering.
I keep getting the same label on my yogi tea bags that say "Feel good, do good, be good." Those 3 in I'm not sure what order, but it resonates with me. I hope to spend this next year living that. Feeling good, taking care of myself, not putting garbage into my body or my mind, continuing to surround myself with people that make me feel good, laughing often, spending as much time as possible outside. Doing good...raising my children with intention, taking care of my husband and my family, being kind to others, having a positive impact on those I come into contact with, friends and strangers alike, extending grace, forgiveness, letting the past go. And last but not least...being good. I think the being good comes from living the first two. I am hoping it will be my best year yet.
Maybe it's been knowing this birthday is coming, or maybe I have just looked a little closer at myself in the mirror, but I have noticed more wrinkles on my face lately. Last week my son told me my neck was getting old recently, kind of "scrunchy, you know". The funny thing is that I feel healthier than I've ever been. I'm training for a marathon and running again after about an 8 year hiatus. My body feels like its in good shape, strong, I feel like I'm at my prime in some ways, full of potential. I contemplate the next 38 years on the horizon and think...yes, my body will probably start breaking down from here on out (it's probably already started to), and so I better take good care of it, be kind to it, its the only one I've got. I hope that isn't the case with my mind. Hopefully, it's the opposite, it continues to find more clarity, less struggle, more ease, less suffering.
I keep getting the same label on my yogi tea bags that say "Feel good, do good, be good." Those 3 in I'm not sure what order, but it resonates with me. I hope to spend this next year living that. Feeling good, taking care of myself, not putting garbage into my body or my mind, continuing to surround myself with people that make me feel good, laughing often, spending as much time as possible outside. Doing good...raising my children with intention, taking care of my husband and my family, being kind to others, having a positive impact on those I come into contact with, friends and strangers alike, extending grace, forgiveness, letting the past go. And last but not least...being good. I think the being good comes from living the first two. I am hoping it will be my best year yet.
Friday, December 16, 2011
Re-emerging
oh boy...nobody faint...it's been 3 months since I have been able to find it in me to write for public consumption. I've done plenty of journaling over the course of the last few months, but letting anyone into my head has felt like a scary proposition. Do you ever feel like you are going nuts? I have spent the last few months stuck in my head. In general, I think I am a pretty quiet minded person. It's not that I don't process things or think about stuff, I just don't tend to get so preoccupied with my thoughts that I am distracted from what is going on in front of me. Over the course of this fall, I felt like my spinning just began to consume me. I felt lost in my head much of the time, watching the same thoughts pass through my mind day in and day out. Don't ask me what they were, because I'm not even sure I could tell you, I don't really know. What I do know, is that I began to feel very lonely, despite having plenty of people in my life. I began to sink deeper inside myself and found myself struggling with the same old stuff. One evening I spent about 3 hours reading my old journals, from 15+ years ago. I cringed as I could see many of the same exact patterns playing out in my mind today. I thought I had purged myself of much of that baggage and have to admit I was more than a bit disappointed to realize I am still doing the same work. What is it that makes us hold so tight to those destructive thought patterns? After beating myself up over it for an evening, I began to think maybe we are like onions. We just keep peeling back these layers, they don't really look different, the layers, but we get closer to the core the more we pull them back. I guess that is just what I am doing, moving closer toward my Self (you know the one with the big S).
After the journey back in time with these journals, I told my husband about feeling lonely. I can see it's because I begin to hide my Self from those I love. I put the masks on that give the impression all is well and I stop sharing what is really going on. I've been peeling the masks off and my mind seems to have a little more space in it and I am feeling a little lighter.
I don't think it is coincidence that I feel this way during a time when the darkness is overtaking the light in nature. I think this season gives us the opportunity to be reflective, to go inside and see what is left to heal, to repair, to rebuild, to recharge... and hopefully re-emerge a better version of our self.
After the journey back in time with these journals, I told my husband about feeling lonely. I can see it's because I begin to hide my Self from those I love. I put the masks on that give the impression all is well and I stop sharing what is really going on. I've been peeling the masks off and my mind seems to have a little more space in it and I am feeling a little lighter.
I don't think it is coincidence that I feel this way during a time when the darkness is overtaking the light in nature. I think this season gives us the opportunity to be reflective, to go inside and see what is left to heal, to repair, to rebuild, to recharge... and hopefully re-emerge a better version of our self.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Whirlwind
I feel like I've been on a bit of a whirlwind tour this summer. It's been great - a little wild, fast paced and unruly at times, but what strikes me most is how quickly it has gone by. I started back to "work" today. Don't ask me why I put that in quotations, it is a part time job, really, but sometimes it doesn't feel like a real job. I feel like just yesterday I was picking the kids up from the last day of school and here we are back at it again.
I'm thankful to be returning to some structure, to have more stimulation for my brain that is adult and feels like it is making a difference in the community at large. We all make a difference every day, in big and small ways. Anyone who is raising kids, or playing a role in the lives of young people, has a great potential to make a difference. Some days it is absolutely enough for me, and other days I can taste a longing for something else, intelligent adult conversation that you don't get enough of when you are herding children or referee-ing for them.
We have played hard this summer, taken lots of weekend trips, gone on a couple of adventures and just generally embraced the season of it. I did a yoga retreat last weekend that was about quieting the nervous system, intended to help us make this transition from summer's frenetic pace into a quieter season. It felt fantastic, it was slow and gentle. Yet, I find myself not quite ready to slow down, to spin out of the whirlwind, we are headed to play some more this weekend. Everything has a time and a place, I suppose, and the time to jump out of vacation mode is not yet for me. We think of vacation mode as one that is laid back, which in ways this summer has been. I have felt more carefree and spontaneous than I can remember being in many moons. I think life will actually take on a more even rhythm, a slower and steadier pace come fall and I welcome it when it comes...I'm just not quite ready...yet.
I'm thankful to be returning to some structure, to have more stimulation for my brain that is adult and feels like it is making a difference in the community at large. We all make a difference every day, in big and small ways. Anyone who is raising kids, or playing a role in the lives of young people, has a great potential to make a difference. Some days it is absolutely enough for me, and other days I can taste a longing for something else, intelligent adult conversation that you don't get enough of when you are herding children or referee-ing for them.
We have played hard this summer, taken lots of weekend trips, gone on a couple of adventures and just generally embraced the season of it. I did a yoga retreat last weekend that was about quieting the nervous system, intended to help us make this transition from summer's frenetic pace into a quieter season. It felt fantastic, it was slow and gentle. Yet, I find myself not quite ready to slow down, to spin out of the whirlwind, we are headed to play some more this weekend. Everything has a time and a place, I suppose, and the time to jump out of vacation mode is not yet for me. We think of vacation mode as one that is laid back, which in ways this summer has been. I have felt more carefree and spontaneous than I can remember being in many moons. I think life will actually take on a more even rhythm, a slower and steadier pace come fall and I welcome it when it comes...I'm just not quite ready...yet.
Monday, August 15, 2011
Am I really like that?
Sometimes life holds up a full length mirror and I find myself staring into my own eyes asking, "Am I really like that?" I am all for introspection. I try hard to look inward, to really see myself, to recognize when I act out of fear, when I misrepresent the truth, when I am not gracious and a million other things I can't begin to list. I try to understand the root of those behaviors, what's behind the impatience or the stress, those things are typically symptoms, right? And not the root cause. For instance, my resentment towards my husband last week really wasn't about what he was or wasn't doing, it was about my own needs not being met and my inability to ask for what it is I need. It's a vicious cycle sometimes, but when we can find the seed, so to speak, we can typically eradicate the problem.
About six weeks ago, I told my husband I felt like I was drowning in housework. I feel like with all of us home this summer, I can't begin to keep on top it. I can do the surface stuff, the laundry, straightening up, dishes, etc. It's the deeper cleaning that I can never seem to find (or make) the time for. I could feel it wearing on me. I was having a hard time relaxing at home, knowing the floors needed mopping, bathroom disinfected. It's the last thing I want to do after the kids are in bed at night, a girl needs some down time. Enough of my justifying here, my husband being the man he is, wanted to fix it. That is what men do, bless their hearts, solve problems. He called a couple of cleaning services, scheduled appointments for them to come and give us a bid and we picked one. They cleaned our house that week and have come back every other week to do the same. Having a cleaner house has been great. What hasn't been great is my interaction with the company... an incorrect bill, the cleaners showing up unexpected, showing up 2 hours late. With 3 kids at home, it's definitely easiest on all of us, if we can leave the house when they arrive and be gone for the duration. I have rearranged my schedule to make that happen and then they don't come when they say they will. It happened again today and I was really frustrated. I called the office and as I talked with the office person, I could tell she thought I was nuts. It struck me as to how inflexible I must appear to her. After I told her this was not going to work for me, that I was frustrated with the communication, or lack there of, she said, "I'm sorry, but I can't have them there at an exact time. It's 2 minutes past 11:30 . I know they were planning to be there around 11:30 and you can either leave the door unlocked or wait if you want them to come. " I could tell by the tone of her voice that she was over it, me, too. We got disconnected, the joys of cell phones and I dropped my kids off and headed to yoga. She called back in the mean time, I didn't answer and made myself spend a few minutes just breathing and letting go of the irritation I felt. I called her back, we had a much more pleasant conversation and it all worked out, today.
I'd like to think I am flexible, that I am able to let things go and am not rigid about how life has to happen. I've witnessed this quality in others and it isn't one of my favorites. I'm not sure if it fear of unknown, I think it is more about feeling out of control. I don't have any answers, I think this is one I need to sit on. It probably sounds like I am making a bigger deal out of this than need be. I'm not. I just got myself all worked up today and wasn't able to clearly articulate my needs, again, and that made me feel stressed out and on edge. I'm not usually like that, am I? Just kidding.
About six weeks ago, I told my husband I felt like I was drowning in housework. I feel like with all of us home this summer, I can't begin to keep on top it. I can do the surface stuff, the laundry, straightening up, dishes, etc. It's the deeper cleaning that I can never seem to find (or make) the time for. I could feel it wearing on me. I was having a hard time relaxing at home, knowing the floors needed mopping, bathroom disinfected. It's the last thing I want to do after the kids are in bed at night, a girl needs some down time. Enough of my justifying here, my husband being the man he is, wanted to fix it. That is what men do, bless their hearts, solve problems. He called a couple of cleaning services, scheduled appointments for them to come and give us a bid and we picked one. They cleaned our house that week and have come back every other week to do the same. Having a cleaner house has been great. What hasn't been great is my interaction with the company... an incorrect bill, the cleaners showing up unexpected, showing up 2 hours late. With 3 kids at home, it's definitely easiest on all of us, if we can leave the house when they arrive and be gone for the duration. I have rearranged my schedule to make that happen and then they don't come when they say they will. It happened again today and I was really frustrated. I called the office and as I talked with the office person, I could tell she thought I was nuts. It struck me as to how inflexible I must appear to her. After I told her this was not going to work for me, that I was frustrated with the communication, or lack there of, she said, "I'm sorry, but I can't have them there at an exact time. It's 2 minutes past 11:30 . I know they were planning to be there around 11:30 and you can either leave the door unlocked or wait if you want them to come. " I could tell by the tone of her voice that she was over it, me, too. We got disconnected, the joys of cell phones and I dropped my kids off and headed to yoga. She called back in the mean time, I didn't answer and made myself spend a few minutes just breathing and letting go of the irritation I felt. I called her back, we had a much more pleasant conversation and it all worked out, today.
I'd like to think I am flexible, that I am able to let things go and am not rigid about how life has to happen. I've witnessed this quality in others and it isn't one of my favorites. I'm not sure if it fear of unknown, I think it is more about feeling out of control. I don't have any answers, I think this is one I need to sit on. It probably sounds like I am making a bigger deal out of this than need be. I'm not. I just got myself all worked up today and wasn't able to clearly articulate my needs, again, and that made me feel stressed out and on edge. I'm not usually like that, am I? Just kidding.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Come Together
This morning I went to yoga class, the first one I have been to where I wasn't teaching in many weeks. I was giddy dropping my children off, knowing I would get a few hours to myself. I have loved summer and the freedom I have being home with 3 kids, the time we have to play, the togetherness. It has also had its challenges - all that togetherness, it seems to lead to bickering, me refereeing and that sometimes exhausts me.
I settled onto my mat to prepare for meditation and my yoga teacher shared a mantra for our practice. "We are connected to the energy of all things." I could feel myself softening into my seat, clearing out some space in my mind as I followed my breath in and out, in and out, and recited this seemingly simple mantra to myself. My teacher spoke of how all of yoga is really about connectedness, the word yoga meaning essentially union, gratitude, awareness of our dependence on others. It resonated with me and felt easy to let it wash over me, clearing out whatever junk I came in with and creating some space for something easier, a little more free. There is such freedom in letting go, of relinquishing the idea that I need to do it all. Realizing that it is not just okay, but it is better when I take time for myself, allow my needs to be met first, and then tend to the other needs in my world.
I left yoga feeling grateful, whole, and most definitely connected. I saw a dear student and friend in the parking lot as I walked to the car. We exchanged hugs and smiles and she headed into the studio as I got into my car. I could feel myself brimming with joy. Was it the yoga or the act of doing something for myself? Probably both, didn't matter. My in-laws graciously took my children for the morning and I had at least an hour before I needed to get back to pick them up. I had several errands to run, which are amazingly fast when there aren't 3 little people getting in and out of the car, too. I pulled up in the parking lot of my son's preschool to deliver his tuition and paperwork and a song on the radio caught my attention. I turned off the engine and listened to the lyrics:
"I got a strong back, steel toes, I'm handy with a wrench. There is nothing I can't drive, nothing I can't fix. I work sun-up to sun-down. Give you 40 and then some. Three dollars and change at the pump. Cost of livin's high and goin' up."
It's a song about a family man trying to find a job, selling himself to a potential employer. My tears were flowing and turned into sobs. Took 2 tissues to wipe away the tears and pull myself together once the song was over. Why am I so emotional? I ask myself. Am I? Maybe it's just that I can feel the truth in that story, there are many souls out there looking for work, trying to make a living, trying to feed their families. Times aren't easy for everyone. I have much to be grateful for, every gosh darn day. Sometimes I get caught up in my own world and stop seeing what is around me, stop feeling gracious and giving. I have to remember to take time for myself, to slow down and reconnect with myself, with that sense of being a small part of something much greater.
I headed off to the grocery store, changed the radio station to Top 40, could feel myself lightening up and by the time I got to Fred Meyer I was grooving to a new beat, dancing my way down the street (in my car, of course). "Evacuate the dance floor, I'm infected by the sound...." Felt like I went from one extreme to the other, not really though. They are just two sides of the same coin. Come together...right now...over me
I settled onto my mat to prepare for meditation and my yoga teacher shared a mantra for our practice. "We are connected to the energy of all things." I could feel myself softening into my seat, clearing out some space in my mind as I followed my breath in and out, in and out, and recited this seemingly simple mantra to myself. My teacher spoke of how all of yoga is really about connectedness, the word yoga meaning essentially union, gratitude, awareness of our dependence on others. It resonated with me and felt easy to let it wash over me, clearing out whatever junk I came in with and creating some space for something easier, a little more free. There is such freedom in letting go, of relinquishing the idea that I need to do it all. Realizing that it is not just okay, but it is better when I take time for myself, allow my needs to be met first, and then tend to the other needs in my world.
I left yoga feeling grateful, whole, and most definitely connected. I saw a dear student and friend in the parking lot as I walked to the car. We exchanged hugs and smiles and she headed into the studio as I got into my car. I could feel myself brimming with joy. Was it the yoga or the act of doing something for myself? Probably both, didn't matter. My in-laws graciously took my children for the morning and I had at least an hour before I needed to get back to pick them up. I had several errands to run, which are amazingly fast when there aren't 3 little people getting in and out of the car, too. I pulled up in the parking lot of my son's preschool to deliver his tuition and paperwork and a song on the radio caught my attention. I turned off the engine and listened to the lyrics:
"I got a strong back, steel toes, I'm handy with a wrench. There is nothing I can't drive, nothing I can't fix. I work sun-up to sun-down. Give you 40 and then some. Three dollars and change at the pump. Cost of livin's high and goin' up."
It's a song about a family man trying to find a job, selling himself to a potential employer. My tears were flowing and turned into sobs. Took 2 tissues to wipe away the tears and pull myself together once the song was over. Why am I so emotional? I ask myself. Am I? Maybe it's just that I can feel the truth in that story, there are many souls out there looking for work, trying to make a living, trying to feed their families. Times aren't easy for everyone. I have much to be grateful for, every gosh darn day. Sometimes I get caught up in my own world and stop seeing what is around me, stop feeling gracious and giving. I have to remember to take time for myself, to slow down and reconnect with myself, with that sense of being a small part of something much greater.
I headed off to the grocery store, changed the radio station to Top 40, could feel myself lightening up and by the time I got to Fred Meyer I was grooving to a new beat, dancing my way down the street (in my car, of course). "Evacuate the dance floor, I'm infected by the sound...." Felt like I went from one extreme to the other, not really though. They are just two sides of the same coin. Come together...right now...over me
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Summer, Summer, Summer
I think we have officially made the transition to summer. Weather is hot, kids are sleeping in, our social calendar has been busy and our house is a mess. I'm much more inclined to spend the afternoon poolside than to stay here and clean up. Dinner is often something on the BBQ and I feel a freedom I haven't felt in a long while. We spent last weekend on Whidbey Island, and as I sat on the beach, looking out at the amazing view, taking in the sea air, feeling sunshine on my skin, I felt truly relaxed. The kids were playing, scattered on the beach. I felt content, happy to feel like I could just be and didn't need to DO anything. Sometimes that is hard for me, I feel like there is so much effort in to getting places with our 3 munchkins, that once we get there, it's hard for me to enjoy the journey of being there and not focus on the next destination, so to speak.
Yesterday, I dropped my oldest off at mini-camp. She was smiling, excited, happy when I left. I could see the mix of emotion in many of the kids faces. Excitement coupled with a bit of concern...our my parents really leaving me here? I felt proud of Ruby and how brave she is to go off to camp for 2 nights. We had many conversations prior to that day about what camp might be like and she was truly just excited and open to the adventure of it. As we pulled in to the parking lot, I could feel that heaviness in my gut, tears welling up in my eyes. I looked at her and told her I was going to try really hard not to cry when I left here. She wrapped her arms around my leg and said "Oh Mom." Not in an annoyed sort of way, rather in a tender, I love you, I'll be fine sort of way. It feels like such a milestone and in the mean time the other two are changing right before my very eyes. Willis' little body is changing, he's getting taller, slimmer. His face is losing baby fat, I assume, as it looks different, older. Elsie is stringing words together, understanding things I don't expect her to. I wonder when did all this take place? I've been watching, am I just now noticing or did it happen overnight? My heart is full and aches all at the same time. I know there is no use in holding on, everything changes. Kids grow up, relationships change, I change. Even knowing that, there is a bittersweet longing to soak up what is before it's gone and has turned into something else, not better or worse, just different. I'm grateful for these long summer days, time to play, to be, to give myself permission to not work so hard and to enjoy the simple moments that pass us by when we aren't watching.
Yesterday, I dropped my oldest off at mini-camp. She was smiling, excited, happy when I left. I could see the mix of emotion in many of the kids faces. Excitement coupled with a bit of concern...our my parents really leaving me here? I felt proud of Ruby and how brave she is to go off to camp for 2 nights. We had many conversations prior to that day about what camp might be like and she was truly just excited and open to the adventure of it. As we pulled in to the parking lot, I could feel that heaviness in my gut, tears welling up in my eyes. I looked at her and told her I was going to try really hard not to cry when I left here. She wrapped her arms around my leg and said "Oh Mom." Not in an annoyed sort of way, rather in a tender, I love you, I'll be fine sort of way. It feels like such a milestone and in the mean time the other two are changing right before my very eyes. Willis' little body is changing, he's getting taller, slimmer. His face is losing baby fat, I assume, as it looks different, older. Elsie is stringing words together, understanding things I don't expect her to. I wonder when did all this take place? I've been watching, am I just now noticing or did it happen overnight? My heart is full and aches all at the same time. I know there is no use in holding on, everything changes. Kids grow up, relationships change, I change. Even knowing that, there is a bittersweet longing to soak up what is before it's gone and has turned into something else, not better or worse, just different. I'm grateful for these long summer days, time to play, to be, to give myself permission to not work so hard and to enjoy the simple moments that pass us by when we aren't watching.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Wedding Bells
Last weekend, my sister-in-law got married. She had asked my husband (her brother) and I to do the homily. We were both a little overwhelmed by the prospect of it, neither of us ever having given a homily. As we delved into it, I think we both found inspiration. The homily, for those of you unfamiliar with Catholic weddings, is "the talk" that usually the priest gives after the Bible readings. It's typically a reflection of the Gospel reading and how it relates to marriage. The priest performing the marriage told the bride and groom that in Native American tradition, a lay person gives the homily. We were honored and humbled to be chosen. The homily has great significance, and we wanted to be sure the words were right for these two we love dearly.
As we began looking into the particular Gospel reading and it's meaning, we found it all boiled down to faith. I came across a quote from St. Augustine that spoke to me, something along the lines of "faith is to believe in things you can not see and the reward of faith is to see what you believe." We could all use a little faith, could we not? People basically live up or down to our expectations of them and when you believe in people, their goodness, their potential, more often than not, you are pleasantly surprised. We both put a lot of thought in to the homily into what we would say. Looking at the sacrament of marriage and it's meaning, made me hopeful. We don't always live up to our commitments in marriage, but we continue to hold that ideal out there in hopes that one day we will. Sure, we live up to parts of it, but am I always gracious in my relationship with my husband? No...definitely not. Am I always kind, patient, generous? Again, the answer is no. I do believe that I can be though, and so I keep working at it, drawing upon a source greater than myself, when I can't muster up the grace myself to do or say the right thing.
So, the wedding. Everything about it was perfect. It was truly a community effort. There were 20 or so people around the house at all times, working to make the event come off without a hitch. Everyone had such a positive attitude, happy to part of the exciting day, willing to help in whatever way was useful. I felt like I was part of the tribe again. I think the bride and groom were able to relax and enjoy the days leading up to and the day of the wedding, resting softly in the knowing that everything would be taken care of. I envy them a little in this way. I've always lived with the mentality that if you want something done, you better do it yourself. In fact, it drives my husband crazy because I will ask him to do something for me and than do it myself, too impatient to wait or because I think I just better do it myself. Who knows why I do that?? But, I could see that it was easy for them to let go, to trust that someone else would take care of any details they hadn't already. They had done the hard work preparing, getting ready and now it was their time to enjoy themselves and their company. (They might have a different take on this, but they both seemed very calm and at ease.)
The wedding was beautiful, special. My sister-in-law's 2 young daughters, ages 7 and 4, were very much a part of the ceremony. You could feel the 4 of them become 1 family. I left that church, listening to the wedding bells of this little old Catholic Church ringing out fiercely over the country side. I felt filled with great hope for the future of this new little family. They are wrapped in love, held by many, many people, committed to their new life, to supporting them as they make their way on this journey. The celebration that followed was a reflection of just that...lots of lively conversation, laughter, dancing, good food and happiness.
As we began looking into the particular Gospel reading and it's meaning, we found it all boiled down to faith. I came across a quote from St. Augustine that spoke to me, something along the lines of "faith is to believe in things you can not see and the reward of faith is to see what you believe." We could all use a little faith, could we not? People basically live up or down to our expectations of them and when you believe in people, their goodness, their potential, more often than not, you are pleasantly surprised. We both put a lot of thought in to the homily into what we would say. Looking at the sacrament of marriage and it's meaning, made me hopeful. We don't always live up to our commitments in marriage, but we continue to hold that ideal out there in hopes that one day we will. Sure, we live up to parts of it, but am I always gracious in my relationship with my husband? No...definitely not. Am I always kind, patient, generous? Again, the answer is no. I do believe that I can be though, and so I keep working at it, drawing upon a source greater than myself, when I can't muster up the grace myself to do or say the right thing.
So, the wedding. Everything about it was perfect. It was truly a community effort. There were 20 or so people around the house at all times, working to make the event come off without a hitch. Everyone had such a positive attitude, happy to part of the exciting day, willing to help in whatever way was useful. I felt like I was part of the tribe again. I think the bride and groom were able to relax and enjoy the days leading up to and the day of the wedding, resting softly in the knowing that everything would be taken care of. I envy them a little in this way. I've always lived with the mentality that if you want something done, you better do it yourself. In fact, it drives my husband crazy because I will ask him to do something for me and than do it myself, too impatient to wait or because I think I just better do it myself. Who knows why I do that?? But, I could see that it was easy for them to let go, to trust that someone else would take care of any details they hadn't already. They had done the hard work preparing, getting ready and now it was their time to enjoy themselves and their company. (They might have a different take on this, but they both seemed very calm and at ease.)
The wedding was beautiful, special. My sister-in-law's 2 young daughters, ages 7 and 4, were very much a part of the ceremony. You could feel the 4 of them become 1 family. I left that church, listening to the wedding bells of this little old Catholic Church ringing out fiercely over the country side. I felt filled with great hope for the future of this new little family. They are wrapped in love, held by many, many people, committed to their new life, to supporting them as they make their way on this journey. The celebration that followed was a reflection of just that...lots of lively conversation, laughter, dancing, good food and happiness.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Transitions
We have officially made it through the first week of summer vacation. I know, I should be mourning it's passing, the summer always passes by too quickly. Ours is full of fun weekend adventures, a family wedding, a family vacation and time with friends. I'm only teaching 3 or 4 yoga classes a week, not doing my other contract work over the summer months, and truly I feel like I have more freedom than I've had in awhile. Well, sort of. My kids are "transitioning" into summer. I don't think they have quite figured out what this new normal looks like.
In some ways, they are there. Ruby has read 4 chapter books in as many days. She has been reading all school year, but something just clicked and she is devouring books like I devour chocolate. She can't get enough of them. We just got our VW van back in the driveway, it's been parked at a friends for almost 2 years, I think. Over the last couple of days, Ruby has spent hours in the back of the van curled up with a book. It's great, I love that she is so into reading. I love to read. But, she is staying up way past bedtime with her night light on, reading long after I think she's asleep. Once again tonight, she tiptoed upstairs and scared me half to death when she said my name and was standing about 6 ft away. She might have a future as a spy, she's stealth. Willis is sleeping in every morning, I think he has figured out that part of summer break, you don't have to get up so early. They are loving being outside, we are taking evening family bike rides, playing together as a family and all that stuff is good.
The not so good is....the togetherness of being with one another all day every day. Elsie has had enough of the mayhem by about 10 a.m. and wants to be in her crib by herself, without anyone touching her or talking to her and then takes a nap (partly because I sort of forget about her for awhile and then go check on her and she's laying in her crib surrounded by books snuggled up, asleep with her blankie). She has been more needy for my attention, wants to be held more, "picks on" her siblings more (this entails hitting one of them, usually with a book or the remote control, or pulling hair or biting, lovely, no?) Ruby and Willis have had about 10 or 12 fights/arguments/debates by lunchtime. I'm trying really hard to not play referee this summer and make the two of them work it out or take a time out. 99% of the time they choose to work it out, but they are still telling on each other, often.
Who knows how long the transition will last. I'm sure once we find our groove, we'll go on vacation, or something will shift and we'll have to find a new one anyways. Life is really a series of transitions, some bigger, some smaller. Some time ago I learned that the word balance comes from the root word balare (which is Latin, I think) and that it means to dance. It's so true. Finding balance is a continual dance and when our pendulum swings too far one way, it sometimes has to go the other to find the happy place in between.
So, I'm dancing in the mean time....might as well get your groove on if you're not yet in the groove, right?
In some ways, they are there. Ruby has read 4 chapter books in as many days. She has been reading all school year, but something just clicked and she is devouring books like I devour chocolate. She can't get enough of them. We just got our VW van back in the driveway, it's been parked at a friends for almost 2 years, I think. Over the last couple of days, Ruby has spent hours in the back of the van curled up with a book. It's great, I love that she is so into reading. I love to read. But, she is staying up way past bedtime with her night light on, reading long after I think she's asleep. Once again tonight, she tiptoed upstairs and scared me half to death when she said my name and was standing about 6 ft away. She might have a future as a spy, she's stealth. Willis is sleeping in every morning, I think he has figured out that part of summer break, you don't have to get up so early. They are loving being outside, we are taking evening family bike rides, playing together as a family and all that stuff is good.
The not so good is....the togetherness of being with one another all day every day. Elsie has had enough of the mayhem by about 10 a.m. and wants to be in her crib by herself, without anyone touching her or talking to her and then takes a nap (partly because I sort of forget about her for awhile and then go check on her and she's laying in her crib surrounded by books snuggled up, asleep with her blankie). She has been more needy for my attention, wants to be held more, "picks on" her siblings more (this entails hitting one of them, usually with a book or the remote control, or pulling hair or biting, lovely, no?) Ruby and Willis have had about 10 or 12 fights/arguments/debates by lunchtime. I'm trying really hard to not play referee this summer and make the two of them work it out or take a time out. 99% of the time they choose to work it out, but they are still telling on each other, often.
Who knows how long the transition will last. I'm sure once we find our groove, we'll go on vacation, or something will shift and we'll have to find a new one anyways. Life is really a series of transitions, some bigger, some smaller. Some time ago I learned that the word balance comes from the root word balare (which is Latin, I think) and that it means to dance. It's so true. Finding balance is a continual dance and when our pendulum swings too far one way, it sometimes has to go the other to find the happy place in between.
So, I'm dancing in the mean time....might as well get your groove on if you're not yet in the groove, right?
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Happy Campers
I'm a writing machine these days, no? I am truly a creature of habit. I looked back and last year I had 12 posts in June. I'm telling you, there is something to the seasons and their effect on me.
I have just been filling out paperwork for my oldest to go to a mini-camp this summer. Mini-camp does not mean day camp, it means overnight camp. I find it hard to believe and I keep crying as I am muddling my way through the many forms we are required to fill out. I don't question whether or not Ruby is ready for the experience. She asked me several weeks ago if she could go to camp this summer. I am guessing she would eagerly go to camp for a whole week if we let her, although she might get homesick after the novelty wore off. She is an independent child, self confident, social, happy go lucky, easy to get along with. She enters new situations without fear, eager to see what they might bring. She is all things good and I want to give her every experience in life that I can. Reading through the packet it talks about preparing them in the weeks before camp, so they know what to expect, don't feel stressed out about the unknown, etc. I think my Ruby, unlike me, welcomes change and what is new and different. She doesn't shy away from new experience, she jumps at the chance more often than not. I think I am probably the one who needs preparing, not her.
I am going to have to wrap my head around her being away, on her own (not really, but it feels that way a little) before I start talking to her about what it will be like. I certainly don't want to break down crying as I describe camp life to her. She is going with one of her friends and there are several other kids that will be there that she knows. It just feels like a big developmental step! I'm not a worrier, I don't think I hold on too tight with my kids, but this one feels hard and particularly emotional for whatever reason.
I still remember going to camp as a kid. I remember the excitement when you got mail, I remember throwing up on my camp counselor's bunk (she was below me) after eating something that did not agree with me, I remember my sister coming in to comfort me. I remember my parents picking me up, I remember doing the arts and crafts. I am excited for her and I can't wait to hear Ruby's stories, to listen to her excitement when she shares her experiences and all she did at mini-camp.
I have just been filling out paperwork for my oldest to go to a mini-camp this summer. Mini-camp does not mean day camp, it means overnight camp. I find it hard to believe and I keep crying as I am muddling my way through the many forms we are required to fill out. I don't question whether or not Ruby is ready for the experience. She asked me several weeks ago if she could go to camp this summer. I am guessing she would eagerly go to camp for a whole week if we let her, although she might get homesick after the novelty wore off. She is an independent child, self confident, social, happy go lucky, easy to get along with. She enters new situations without fear, eager to see what they might bring. She is all things good and I want to give her every experience in life that I can. Reading through the packet it talks about preparing them in the weeks before camp, so they know what to expect, don't feel stressed out about the unknown, etc. I think my Ruby, unlike me, welcomes change and what is new and different. She doesn't shy away from new experience, she jumps at the chance more often than not. I think I am probably the one who needs preparing, not her.
I am going to have to wrap my head around her being away, on her own (not really, but it feels that way a little) before I start talking to her about what it will be like. I certainly don't want to break down crying as I describe camp life to her. She is going with one of her friends and there are several other kids that will be there that she knows. It just feels like a big developmental step! I'm not a worrier, I don't think I hold on too tight with my kids, but this one feels hard and particularly emotional for whatever reason.
I still remember going to camp as a kid. I remember the excitement when you got mail, I remember throwing up on my camp counselor's bunk (she was below me) after eating something that did not agree with me, I remember my sister coming in to comfort me. I remember my parents picking me up, I remember doing the arts and crafts. I am excited for her and I can't wait to hear Ruby's stories, to listen to her excitement when she shares her experiences and all she did at mini-camp.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Paying Attention
One might ask the question...why do I always start blogging 15 minutes before I need to wake up my napping cherubs (they are the sweetest when they are sleeping, aren't they?) to dash out to pick up Ruby from school. Maybe that is the only way I ever get a blog entry done, to have a deadline. 14 minutes and counting.
I read this quote yesterday in my yoga class, "What you pay attention to becomes your experience." I am not sure who wrote it or where the quote came from, but it struck a mighty chord with me. I have been trapped a bit in a negative pattern of speaking without intention. Many moons ago, I read a book on Toltec Wisdom, you've probably heard of it, The Four Agreements. They are simple truths about how to live your life. I can usually only ever pull out 3 of the 4 at any given time and we'll see what I can come out with today... Always do your best. Never make assumptions. Be impeccable with your words....Looks like today I can only pull out 3. Sorry folks. Anyways, the one about being impeccable with your words has always stuck with me. It made me pause and think about what we put out into the world with our words. Somewhere, this was described about using words as a force for light and healing in the world, or like a poison, fueling darkness. I would like, of course, to be the force for light and healing in the world, not some poison spewer. But, I am human, no? I find myself at times making assumptions about what motivates another person's actions, taking it personally, at times, when in actuality it may have nothing to do with me and may have everything to do with their own "stuff" (that is the 4th one, Don't take things personally.)
So, back to paying attention...my husband and I had a conversation about this particular idea this morning. He came to my yoga class yesterday, and perhaps that planted the seed when I read the quote. I'm not sure, but he brought up an interaction he had, that made him notice another's focus on what isn't positive and good, how the person seemed to pay attention to what was negative or wrong in a situation as opposed to what was good. It made me pause. I've been thinking about this about myself. How when you hear a story about someone that is juicy, let's say, or have an experience of someone that is not favorable, instead of choosing to let that story stop at you and quit feeding the rumor mill, or poison in the world of words, I often retell it. Not in a way that intends to make trouble, or stir up drama, I'm actually not sure why I retell it. My husband and I talked about how much better you feel about yourself when you steer clear of those conversations, when you hold back remarks that are less than life giving. I sometimes feel like I need a reminder, to walk around with a mirror so I can see just what it is that I am reflecting in the world.
So, I am making a commitment today to pay attention to the good stuff, the stuff that brings out the best in people, the stuff that makes people feel happy, loved and good inside. I am making a commitment to use my words more impeccably and I have a feeling that my experience will begin to reflect something lighter (not that it was dark to start out with, but I am guessing you know what I mean.)
And.... my time is up. Off to practice my new commitments!
I read this quote yesterday in my yoga class, "What you pay attention to becomes your experience." I am not sure who wrote it or where the quote came from, but it struck a mighty chord with me. I have been trapped a bit in a negative pattern of speaking without intention. Many moons ago, I read a book on Toltec Wisdom, you've probably heard of it, The Four Agreements. They are simple truths about how to live your life. I can usually only ever pull out 3 of the 4 at any given time and we'll see what I can come out with today... Always do your best. Never make assumptions. Be impeccable with your words....Looks like today I can only pull out 3. Sorry folks. Anyways, the one about being impeccable with your words has always stuck with me. It made me pause and think about what we put out into the world with our words. Somewhere, this was described about using words as a force for light and healing in the world, or like a poison, fueling darkness. I would like, of course, to be the force for light and healing in the world, not some poison spewer. But, I am human, no? I find myself at times making assumptions about what motivates another person's actions, taking it personally, at times, when in actuality it may have nothing to do with me and may have everything to do with their own "stuff" (that is the 4th one, Don't take things personally.)
So, back to paying attention...my husband and I had a conversation about this particular idea this morning. He came to my yoga class yesterday, and perhaps that planted the seed when I read the quote. I'm not sure, but he brought up an interaction he had, that made him notice another's focus on what isn't positive and good, how the person seemed to pay attention to what was negative or wrong in a situation as opposed to what was good. It made me pause. I've been thinking about this about myself. How when you hear a story about someone that is juicy, let's say, or have an experience of someone that is not favorable, instead of choosing to let that story stop at you and quit feeding the rumor mill, or poison in the world of words, I often retell it. Not in a way that intends to make trouble, or stir up drama, I'm actually not sure why I retell it. My husband and I talked about how much better you feel about yourself when you steer clear of those conversations, when you hold back remarks that are less than life giving. I sometimes feel like I need a reminder, to walk around with a mirror so I can see just what it is that I am reflecting in the world.
So, I am making a commitment today to pay attention to the good stuff, the stuff that brings out the best in people, the stuff that makes people feel happy, loved and good inside. I am making a commitment to use my words more impeccably and I have a feeling that my experience will begin to reflect something lighter (not that it was dark to start out with, but I am guessing you know what I mean.)
And.... my time is up. Off to practice my new commitments!
Friday, June 3, 2011
Sprung in Spring
I am always seeking to better know myself, to understand what motivates me, what triggers old unproductive thought patters, what moves me, etc. I found myself journaling the other day under the heading (one I wrote) "What I know about myself". I started laughing part ways through as I reflected upon what I was doing and seeing half way down my list "I know I wonder what people who really know me think of me." I have spent many an hour pouring over my own writings, intensely reading old journals, wondering who is this person I am reading about. I do think I know myself pretty well, I'm pretty rooted in who I am. I don't always like what comes out of my mouth, but I am self aware and typically know exactly what is going on with me when I say things I wish I would say differently. By and large, my actions are an accurate reflection of me, I hold fast to some basic truths about how we should interact with others, how we should be in the world, and granted sometimes I get carried away, but mostly I operate from a place of goodness and light, and I'd like to think that what I say and do reflects that.
For some reason in the Spring, at least for the last 3 years (which is as far back as I can remember what spring felt like) I get restless, almost agitated, but not quite. I get this itchy feeling in my soul, like I want to take a spiritual road trip. I'm not sure what it is about the spring that does it. I tend to seek more, want to feel connected more. I find myself making more phone calls to friends, sending more emails, on facebook more, etc. I am trying to understand where this comes from and got curious about Ayurveda doshas and how that might come into play. (For those who are not familiar with Ayurveda and doshas...Ayurveda is a system of traditional medicine or healing from India, one that is seen in the west as a bit alternative. There are 3 dominant doshas, which are described as "life energies behind our bodily functions." For example, do you have high, moderate or low activity level. Do you tend to be overweight, underweight, or moderate? You get the picture.) The 3 doshas are each made up of 2 of the 5 element: air, fire, water, space, earth. The 3 doshas are vata (air and space), pitta (fire and air), and kapha (earth and water). I didn't know what my dosha was and so I took a few tests to determine my dosha. I always assumed that I was vata, I'm not sure why, I guess due to a lack of knowledge about the whole thing. When you know your dosha, you can better understand what some of your tendencies might be and hopefully have an easier time keeping yourself in balance. For example, if you are vata, you might be like the wind...unpredictable, cool, quick to change and to balance that out, you might need more structure, stability in your life, more grounding. Now, let me say, I am no expert on this, and there is a whole lot of information about this, if you want it. I'm just trying to give a framework for where I am going which I've kind of forgotten.
Oh yes, so I am kapha, earth and water. Not what I suspected, but after reading about the qualities inherent to this dosha, they fit...stable, loyal, dependable, to name a few. I was actually calling myself (to myself) Debbie Dependable the other day. So, what is my point? Spring is certainly a season that is characterized by more movement of the air, everything lightens up in the world. Nature re-emerges in all its glory, it's lighter outside, days are longer, it's warmer. I think my earthy nature feels out of sorts, ungrounded in this season. It makes me a little nervous and I'd like to be able to instead see it as an opportunity for growth, an opportunity to match my nature with nature, to re-emerge a little, to find a new beginning in some way shape or form. I am hoping that now I know, I can move through this season with a little bit more awareness and just maybe, I will find myself in a more balanced, less restless place. Happy Spring!
P.S. If you want to discover your dosha, click on this link. This is just one test to take, there are many out there. At the bottom of the test there are articles about Ayurveda and doshas if you want to learn more.
http://www.yogajournal.com/health/498
For some reason in the Spring, at least for the last 3 years (which is as far back as I can remember what spring felt like) I get restless, almost agitated, but not quite. I get this itchy feeling in my soul, like I want to take a spiritual road trip. I'm not sure what it is about the spring that does it. I tend to seek more, want to feel connected more. I find myself making more phone calls to friends, sending more emails, on facebook more, etc. I am trying to understand where this comes from and got curious about Ayurveda doshas and how that might come into play. (For those who are not familiar with Ayurveda and doshas...Ayurveda is a system of traditional medicine or healing from India, one that is seen in the west as a bit alternative. There are 3 dominant doshas, which are described as "life energies behind our bodily functions." For example, do you have high, moderate or low activity level. Do you tend to be overweight, underweight, or moderate? You get the picture.) The 3 doshas are each made up of 2 of the 5 element: air, fire, water, space, earth. The 3 doshas are vata (air and space), pitta (fire and air), and kapha (earth and water). I didn't know what my dosha was and so I took a few tests to determine my dosha. I always assumed that I was vata, I'm not sure why, I guess due to a lack of knowledge about the whole thing. When you know your dosha, you can better understand what some of your tendencies might be and hopefully have an easier time keeping yourself in balance. For example, if you are vata, you might be like the wind...unpredictable, cool, quick to change and to balance that out, you might need more structure, stability in your life, more grounding. Now, let me say, I am no expert on this, and there is a whole lot of information about this, if you want it. I'm just trying to give a framework for where I am going which I've kind of forgotten.
Oh yes, so I am kapha, earth and water. Not what I suspected, but after reading about the qualities inherent to this dosha, they fit...stable, loyal, dependable, to name a few. I was actually calling myself (to myself) Debbie Dependable the other day. So, what is my point? Spring is certainly a season that is characterized by more movement of the air, everything lightens up in the world. Nature re-emerges in all its glory, it's lighter outside, days are longer, it's warmer. I think my earthy nature feels out of sorts, ungrounded in this season. It makes me a little nervous and I'd like to be able to instead see it as an opportunity for growth, an opportunity to match my nature with nature, to re-emerge a little, to find a new beginning in some way shape or form. I am hoping that now I know, I can move through this season with a little bit more awareness and just maybe, I will find myself in a more balanced, less restless place. Happy Spring!
P.S. If you want to discover your dosha, click on this link. This is just one test to take, there are many out there. At the bottom of the test there are articles about Ayurveda and doshas if you want to learn more.
http://www.yogajournal.com/health/498
Thursday, June 2, 2011
My Little Man
My sweet little boy turns 4 in a couple of days. I feel like time continues to pass quickly, the weeks fly by, the days are short, the hour between 4 p.m. and bedtime is long...just joking, sort of. I remember the surprise when he was born, I expected another girl. What would I do with a little boy? Having 3 nieces and a daughter, I wasn't sure I would know. Fast forward to today and I can't imagine life without WB. He is such a source of laughter and joy in our home, he balances us out in some way. I think I relate to him in more ways than I would of expected, he is the middle child, smack dab between his two sisters. He is playful, silly, serious, feisty, soft, hilarious, tough, sensitive, emotional, moody, smart, sneaky, athletic, sweet and spicy. I feel like he is a mixture of so many opposites. He is a Gemini and not that I hold a lot of stock in horoscopes, but he definitely seems to embody the spirit of twins, the two sided coin, wrapped in one brilliant and amazing little package.
He has been more needy for me in the last several weeks, for lack of a better way to put it. He talks of wanting to marry me, which his older sister always informs him will never happen since I am married to Daddy. He wants more kisses. He says I love you first when I put him to bed. He wants me to hold him and snuggle him tight, hold his hand. I don't know if he senses, as I do, that he is growing up. I know, he's only 4, he's not even off to kindergarten next year or anything, but I can see him maturing, changing, becoming more independent. He's finding ways to control his emotional outbursts, restrain himself when that fiery temper of his flares up. He recognizes his role as a big brother to little E and takes it on with gusto.
I sometimes wish there was a pause button on the remote control of life and I could just freeze him right where he is for a little while. I know I can't, so I am doing my best to soak every little bit of him in...to give in to the pleas for more snuggles, for dragging out bedtime with one more story, this time is precious. We blink and our children are school age and then I imagine we blink again and they are headed off to high school and beyond.
Last night, after I snuggled WB and his daddy laid down next to him, he said, "Dad, did you notice how much Mom loves me?" My heart melted. If I give him nothing else of mine, I've given him what is most important. Happy Birthday, my little man.
He has been more needy for me in the last several weeks, for lack of a better way to put it. He talks of wanting to marry me, which his older sister always informs him will never happen since I am married to Daddy. He wants more kisses. He says I love you first when I put him to bed. He wants me to hold him and snuggle him tight, hold his hand. I don't know if he senses, as I do, that he is growing up. I know, he's only 4, he's not even off to kindergarten next year or anything, but I can see him maturing, changing, becoming more independent. He's finding ways to control his emotional outbursts, restrain himself when that fiery temper of his flares up. He recognizes his role as a big brother to little E and takes it on with gusto.
I sometimes wish there was a pause button on the remote control of life and I could just freeze him right where he is for a little while. I know I can't, so I am doing my best to soak every little bit of him in...to give in to the pleas for more snuggles, for dragging out bedtime with one more story, this time is precious. We blink and our children are school age and then I imagine we blink again and they are headed off to high school and beyond.
Last night, after I snuggled WB and his daddy laid down next to him, he said, "Dad, did you notice how much Mom loves me?" My heart melted. If I give him nothing else of mine, I've given him what is most important. Happy Birthday, my little man.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Short and Sweet
I just spent less than 24 hours in Seattle. Sometimes that is all that is required to shift your focus a little. I keep wishing that as humans we had a reset button, a way to reprogram the mind so to speak, when we get into unproductive ruts of thoughts. No magic button to push unfortunately. Fortunately, sometimes when things get a little off kilter, they manage to reset themselves, kind of like magic, but not quite.
I didn't leave home feeling particularly off or out of sorts yesterday, at least nothing I noticed. What I did notice today, as I headed back home, is that I felt fresh, renewed, ready to greet whatever awaited me. It wasn't that anything extraordinary happened, I just had a little time to myself...the quiet in the car with no one demanding anything of me, an evening at a fundraiser talking with an old co-worker and his partner, interesting, passionate people, and feeling transported 180 degrees away from my normal days, late night ice cream and easy conversation about life with a dear friend...it really doesn't take much.
I had intended to go shopping while in Seattle, buy a dress for my sister in law's wedding, take in a yoga class. When I woke up this morning, none of that seemed all that interesting at the moment. Instead, I wandered up to a neighborhood coffee shop, got a really good mocha (why do they always taste so much better from Seattle coffee houses?), the sun was shining, blue sky overhead and the day felt glorious. I got in my car and headed toward the freeway. I felt full. I watched a mother deliver her preschooler to school and felt my eyes brimming with tears. It wasn't so much that I felt longing for my kids, I just felt connected to the universe, could see myself in her. Heading over the pass, I saw a deer trying to run across the highway. Oncoming traffic slowed, a trucker honked and the deer ran back to safety...again tears, grateful for when they world spares life, when we conspire together to keep someone or something in danger safe. (Sounds like I've been crying a lot with these last two posts, doesn't it?) I sang my little heart out as I drove home, listened to music that lifts me up, speaks to my soul and simply felt grateful for the ability to get away, even for a short and sweet adventure on my own. Feels good to be alive.
I didn't leave home feeling particularly off or out of sorts yesterday, at least nothing I noticed. What I did notice today, as I headed back home, is that I felt fresh, renewed, ready to greet whatever awaited me. It wasn't that anything extraordinary happened, I just had a little time to myself...the quiet in the car with no one demanding anything of me, an evening at a fundraiser talking with an old co-worker and his partner, interesting, passionate people, and feeling transported 180 degrees away from my normal days, late night ice cream and easy conversation about life with a dear friend...it really doesn't take much.
I had intended to go shopping while in Seattle, buy a dress for my sister in law's wedding, take in a yoga class. When I woke up this morning, none of that seemed all that interesting at the moment. Instead, I wandered up to a neighborhood coffee shop, got a really good mocha (why do they always taste so much better from Seattle coffee houses?), the sun was shining, blue sky overhead and the day felt glorious. I got in my car and headed toward the freeway. I felt full. I watched a mother deliver her preschooler to school and felt my eyes brimming with tears. It wasn't so much that I felt longing for my kids, I just felt connected to the universe, could see myself in her. Heading over the pass, I saw a deer trying to run across the highway. Oncoming traffic slowed, a trucker honked and the deer ran back to safety...again tears, grateful for when they world spares life, when we conspire together to keep someone or something in danger safe. (Sounds like I've been crying a lot with these last two posts, doesn't it?) I sang my little heart out as I drove home, listened to music that lifts me up, speaks to my soul and simply felt grateful for the ability to get away, even for a short and sweet adventure on my own. Feels good to be alive.
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