Brooding? Me?

Yes, yes, I picked a new template.

The black was beginning to depress me - but I loved the way it framed my photos, making them vibrant. That's why I picked it in the first place, and held onto to it for so long. This new one is - eh - different. It's lighter, not so gloomy. We'll see if it grows on me.

Upon hearing that I was going to change my template, and observing while I sampled several, Cassie kept chuckling at my heaving sighs of, "Oh THAT won't work."

She said matter-of-factly, "Yeah, you're right, They're not right for your brooding posts."

Brooding posts?!? My posts are brooding? Huh? Me?

Okay, okay, okay yeah, I admit it, sometimes I dig so deeply into my inner sanctum that the light cannot follow. Not that I am deep. No, not suggesting that. My mother says, "You think too much." I guess that's it. My brain is constantly swirling with thoughts which I try to follow, because I really do want to get to know myself and the world around me in order to change, and become less......

......brooding?!?!

In high school I used to wake up every morning with a grouch on that repelled family members just fine, thank you very much. (Tom is going to smirk here because I awakened that way for several of our early married years, too - okay - okay - okay - I STILL do it sometimes.................. OKAAAYY! My 'grouch' follows me around a LOT! Sheesh. Give me a break. I'm SHARING here.)

ANYWAY, I have to repeat that the reason I started this blog was strictly for me, a place where I could chronicle some of my conceptual struggles, encouraging discoveries, life experiences, and peeves, for evaluation and memory purposes. For those reasons I keep it up.

And guess what, oh skeptics who think blogs are useless, this little exercise in bloggishness has actually begun to change my behavior for the better! In repeated perusal of said blog, for I am its biggest fan, I find that the notions imparted are sticking, and coming upfront when I need them.

For example, we watched the Grammy Awards last night and found that Tom Petty's excellent album 'Highway Companion' did not garner a trophy. This morning the girls and I were brushing our straight lovely teeth, carefully spitting into the oval sinks, when I whined, "It's too bad Tommy didn't win. Stupid Grammy people. I wonder if he's upset." Before I could even get enough foamy spit brushed up to aim and fire I realized that I myself have been blogging on about holding our contentment in our own hands, rather than expecting it to come from others. Another shining light-bulb above the head moment - here is an opportunity to practice what I've learned.

My inner voices whispered excitedly, "You know what? Tommy knows he made an outstanding album. He doesn't need to win another award for personal validation." Then, I smiled, "Wow! My own words have come to my rescue, wisdom from within." I was kind of amazed, and sort of got some foamy dribble in Cassie's hair. (I don't think she knew because I used a warm Mommy hug to close in and sneakily wipe it off.) She sweetly smiled and said, "Good for you, Mama." The desire to complain about the Grammys vanished and serenity took it's place, not because I got the spit out of Cassie's hair, but because I was able to change a negative reaction about Tommy's non-Grammy into a thoughtful, wise response which is that we don't measure our value with externals.

This episode is evidence to me that change is occurring, and that thrills me, because there are miles and miles and miles between goodness and where I now stand.

I'll still brood. I'll still grouch. I'll still blog. And every now and again, wisdom will softly alight, infusing her gentle whispers into my grateful, thirsting heart.

Vitality

He won two more Grammies last night.

















It's not for awards that life is lived. He knows who he is. His accomplishments and capabilities are known to him with or without acclaim from the fickle folks who pick and choose who gets a nod and who doesn't.


















Still, they were given, and I'm pointing it out, just because.


Bobby Dylan. Still creating. Still playing. Still vital.






For what it's worth, Bobby, we listen, we watch, we enjoy! It's all good.


















Bob Dylan's words of acceptance after receiving his Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award in 1991: "Yeah, my daddy, he didn't leave me too much, you know, he was a very simple man, and he didn't leave me a lot, but what he told me was this, he said, "Son,"........He said so many things, you know..........He said, "You know, it's possible to become so defiled in this world that your own mother and father would abandon you, and if that happens God will always believe in your own ability to mend your own ways. Thank you."'

Barnacles Begone!

"I tell my kids: 'You know yourself when you've done a good job and you know when you have let yourself down. We all know all these things inherently so look to yourself and don't blame other people or let them give you a sense of your value, that is a lie. It is false."'


~~ Sorry, I don't remember who said this, but it must be someone I respect, because I copied it into my little book of quotes a few years ago.

* * *
This is good advice for anyone, not just for kids. To understand that you alone are responsible for your actions and sense of value and that to live life accordingly frees you from the blaming on one hand, and the desperate need for approval and attention on the other. It's a middle way, without extremes, and without dependency on others for excuses or happiness.

I like it.

Wish someone had imparted this wisdom to me long ago. There would be less self-inflicted barnacles of warped perspective attached to my hull today, barnacles I spend precious time tediously scraping away.

But scrape, I do. "You know yourself when you've done a good job and you know when you have let yourself down." Yes. Yes, I do. And it is enough information for choices.

It's easy to get caught up in believing what others may think of us. Good or bad. We lose sight of ourselves when we believe flattery, undue criticism, or manipulation. Best to have a correct sense of ourselves, take personal responsibility, carry our integrity and happiness in our own hearts and minds. We become brighter, truer beacons for those in our path when we are true to ourselves.


"Set down your chains, until only faith remains,
Set down your chains
And lend your voices only to sounds of freedom.
No longer lend your strength to that
Which you wish to be free from.
Fill your lives with love and bravery
And we shall lead a life uncommon."

~~ Jewel

Sellout?

I read something a singer/songwriter wrote about staying true to herself by writing the songs that expressed her heart rather than just writing songs she knew would be hits.

A contemporary rumination for me, the idea of selling out, or not, along with all the ways selling out manifests itself.

Defining the word sellout would be something like abandoning your authentic self expression for a false behavior in exchange for a commodity from others, such as kudos, adulation, fame, money, whatever.

Bob Dylan was accused of selling out when he wore a leather jacket. He just liked it, that's all. Disenchanted fans labeled it his 'sellout jacket.' This is the man who repeatedly 'went electric' to the boos and jeers of audiences everywhere, staying true to his creative desires despite harsh criticism and the rude behavior of others.

He's not a sellout.

But a lot of us are.

It's easy to leave our original intention whatever form it may take (writing, music, speaking, etc.) crossing over into pleasing the masses to attain personal praise in its many forms. The loss of authentic self expression is a tragedy, most especially when it's replaced with something common.

What is it about praise from others that is so tantalizing? Why is it that we will alter ourselves, our intentions, behavior, lives for praise? Is it because we need validation? Is it because we deathly fear praise's opposite, rejection, which can be so demoralizing? I wonder.

We start out with a sort of gift or talent, we try our hand at it, we get a little feedback that maybe we are okay at this, and then we have a little success,. Before we know it, we find ourselves compromising. Changing our attitude - maybe puffing up - changing our behavior to please more people, for more praise, and why? Again, why? Why do we lay our validation in the hands of others, when in actuality, our validation comes from God, comes from within ourselves. Each of us is a complete entity, the one and only, truly known by our choices not by what others have to say about us.

I had an sobering experience a few years ago, and I'm so glad I did because it was a revelation. I was speaking before a large group of people. I was on a roll, had the crowd roaring with laughter, then nodding in thoughtfulness. It was all off the cuff, spontaneous, one of those right place, right time sort of occurrences. After wrapping it up, I exited the room with applause ringing loudly from all around the auditorium. Wow! Elation. Later, in the lobby, I was surrounded by a mass of strangers wanting my e-mail address, wanting to shake my hand and hug me, telling me how I'd helped/touched/inspired them, pushing to be near me, praising me. I heard people talking to one another about ME, and wasn't I funny and wasn't I great, and "Oh look! There she is!" It was surreal.

"They love me! They accept me. I could get used to this!" Sweet validation.

But when I got home I quickly assessed the situation. I could pursue this avenue, but it felt too heady. It wasn't an aspiration of mine, but the rush was fantastic. No, this was going to be a one time thing. I actually recognized the line between my own self and that false self that I could so easily become - for the attention. The 'fame' had been thrust upon me too quickly and I had a bad reaction to it! Thank God for the eyes to see what was going on, and fast.

It soon dawned on me that to sell myself out for the attention of others would be the rejection of my true self. Self-rejection! What emptiness! Better to remain anonymous and authentic than to sellout for something I can give myself anytime, anyplace.

And I'm not talking about a leather jacket.

Skiing, Kids, and Priests

Tom Crum is, among other things, a ski instructor in Aspen, Colorado. Here is an excerpt from his book, "Journey to Center."

"I was teaching a group of five-year-olds one day. 'Teaching' means jump-the-bumps with different animal sounds on the way down and belting out 'Little Bunny Foo-Foo' on the chair-lift riding back up. On one particular 'Big Bear' jump, a little pigtailed munchkin came flying off the lip making perfect redeep frog sounds. The next thing I knew, two skis complete with boots attached were racing toward me in perfect parallel, but there was no skier! Just a ghost downhiller whizzing past me and disappearing into the trees below. I looked back uphill and there was the little girl, on her back with her stockinged feet raised to the heavens, focusing happily on catching snowflakes with her tongue. Are we having fun or what?"

I LOVE that story! What a picture of pure freedom, living in the moment!

Crum again:

"When philosopher-priest Thomas Merton was a young man, he found himself eating scrambled eggs with his friends after another one of his many all-night parties of drinking, smoking, and idle talk. The gnawing desire to do something more to create value from the clutter and debris of his life suddenly broke through. An idea came to him with great clarity, and he stated, amidst the eggs, coffee, and smoke, 'You know, I think I ought to enter a monastery and become a priest.' Many of us have made similar statements under the influence of guilt or spirit. The incredible thing is that Thomas Merton put out his cigarette and did it."

"Change does not take time, it takes commitment."

Penetrating Gaze

This week I sat in a small classroom in the midst of ten students who were listening to their teacher go over their lesson for the week. With lesson books on their laps and pencils in hand they appeared absolutely willing to learn and participate. Heads up, eyes on the teacher, attentive.

Until the teacher asked a question, and paused for answers.

Down went the heads, pencils were squeezed in terror, movement ceased, and breathing paused. Stillness. The teacher's caustic eyes slowly scanned the cranium of each kid. "Well?"

Seriously, do kids really believe that invisibility occurs if they look to their laps and hold their breath in such situations? Apparently so, because, as we can attest, we've attempted the same thing over and over again, in classrooms all over the world. Some kid somewhere must have achieved transparency because we all retain hope!

It's easy. Hide your eyes. Pretend you are otherwise occupied in a studious endeavor. Fake thoughtfulness, ummmmmm......"Please please please..... do NOT pick me!" chants your silent inner voice.

Why? Why not answer the question? Because we didn't do our lesson and don't know the answer? Because we are afraid we'll look stupid, or worse, like a geek for having an answer?

Sheesh.

It got me to thinking. Don't we adult human beings do sort of the same thing when it comes to God? We, who claim to be believers in Jesus Christ, know that we live in a broken world, that we ourselves are broken, and that there is much reason to seek spiritual understanding. Yet, when we think about God's penetrating gaze upon us, we freeze, we look down, we dummy-up hoping to keep God's eyes off of us. Why?

"Busy now, God. Maybe later," is one excuse for no response.

By that we may mean that we will be busy putting him on hold for most of our lives until we experience fear when facing our mortality at which time we'll expect him to comfort us with soothing thoughts of heaven and a pain free afterlife.

Or maybe we will keep busy learning ABOUT the truth, without ever acknowledging that our lives are to be lived in the light of it. The ability to converse about God may convince us that we are his. "Just, God, don't ask anything of me. I'm busy learning about you. Don't look at me. You make me nervous."

Or maybe, just maybe we misunderstand that penetrating gaze. We think it actually does somehow miss us. Yes, it flashes right past us onto our neighbors! Thus we spend our lives ministering to our neighbors, revealing to them their sins, teaching them 'a way', when in actuality, we may be more lost than they. The blind leading the blind. "I'm busy serving you, God. I'll deflect that stern questioning look of yours. I'm sure it's meant for someone else. I'm already saved."

For God's children it is a fearsome thing to come under the gaze of the almighty God. We cringe and shrink in shame when his holiness is viewed through our sinful eyes. But we know that working out our salvation with fear and trembling requires regular inspection. And answers. For growth to continue we must look up. Avoidance will not do. Thankfully, the Father's gaze is coupled with irresistible goodness which compels true believers to lift their faces in sober response to their uncompromising Creator, no matter how unsettling the experience.

Oh, for lifelong courage to meet his gaze, to experience the hurt of the Truth as well as the relief.

"Stare on, oh loving God, your disintegrating stare. In you lie all hope and meaning."

Home

"Fight to remember what is big and important amidst all the distractions in life."

"God is very serious about what's going on in our lives, more so than we are. We get caught up in trivia, but the reality goes much deeper than the temporal life here."

"How we live now is directly linked to what we believe about the future."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I found these quotes in my notebooks. Don't know the authors for certain, but know the sentiments to be true.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My breath quickens as I contemplate the first quote. It's a continuing theme for me, to keep pure and on track, or to try to anyway. It's so hard! Too many distractions, some of which are disguised as 'important things.' I think it's the word FIGHT that snaps my mind to attention. Fight. Struggle. Persevere. Be determined, and even get mad.

Because as the second quote suggests, God is more serious than I am about what's going on in my life. Reality IS deeper than the nonsense that captures my awareness. But I want to be serious! So, back to the first quote; I fight for it, fight to know the truth, and fight to drink the cup of truth rather than have it sit on my table in a clean lovely glass, undisturbed. For it is not enough to know; it is everything to experience, to partake, to engage - to believe. Drink.

And I strive to live this way why? Because I know the future is BIG. It's beyond what I know here. The haze of distraction will be gone and visible at last will be the Truth we believers struggle toward. Today we are privy to bits and pieces, but there is more. Hungering, thirsting, we fight, we strain, we grope in the dark, and slowly, s l o w l y, God's finger raises the curtain of haze just a little, to allow another lying on your belly scrunching your open eye under the hem peek. Those tiny glimpses fuel the urge. I want more. No, I need more.

Home. I long for home.

Sound of Silence

"Men go abroad to wonder at the height of mountains, at the huge waves of the sea, at the long courses of the rivers, at the vast compass of the ocean, at the circular motion of the stars; and they pass by themselves without wondering." ~~ St. Augustine

The snow is melting after surviving a week here in the valley. Yep, it snowed last Thursday and today's sun is calling the water back up into the heavens, to go snow on some of you! Enjoy it. We sure have.



When it snows here it gets -- quiet. Pleasant, peaceful, muffled quiet.

As a hard of hearing person, I find it quizzical that I covet quiet. But I do. Quiet for me is different from quiet for those blessed with keen hearing. Hearing with my ears would sound quiet to you, it would probably be frightening. It's all I've known. Noises annoy me. Noises like traffic - grrr. And thumping, booming stereos in cars and houses. An idling car will test my temper like nothing else. I've learned how to breathe through it and stay calm. Took awhile. Never did run out the front door in my jammies waving a baseball bat with the intention of smashing the windshield, though I battled the urge enough times.

Anyway, yeah, the snow just muffled everything. Walks were peaceful because traffic was so very light. It was like walking in the woods - almost. People smiled, laughed, talked to one another. Camaraderie. Refreshing.

And quiet. I relaxed deeply like I do when we go up to the cabin.

How I enjoy my silent world at times.

There are many imperfections in the human race. Lousy hearing is only one of them. As with anyone who has a physical hardship, there is an upside. For me, it's silence, the realm of quiet, for it is there that distractions depart, thoughts flow freely, and I can contemplate deeply.

Until the neighbor starts his car in the morning, warming it up, for FORTY FIVE MINUTES.

Clive, Jewel, and JD

"God, overcome us that, so overcome, we may be ourselves." ~~ C. S. Lewis, The Great Divorce

"We are half-hearted creatures fooling about with drink and sex and ambitions and religious effort when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased." ~~ C. S. Lewis

"Growing up is not the absence of dreaming.
It's being able to understand the difference between the dreams you can hold
and the ones that you've been sold." -- Jewel

"Dreaming won't fit in a cage." ~~ John Denver
---------------------------------
Imperative for me to constantly contemplate. Several, singular, and all at once.

Journal Entry - August 2001

Fresh words still evade me today. How about some old words?

In perusing a journal I've been keeping off and on for years, I found this entry which sparked a warm memory of a time in my life when something magical transpired.

This written record is unedited, unpolished, and unsophisticated. Copy and Paste. But it means the world to me.

August 17, 2001

At bedtime tonight, Cassie, referring to my prayers where I implore God to teach us to listen to Him asked, "How do you know what He's saying, Mommy? Can you HEAR a voice?"

Ah, I answered to her, God talks to me in many many ways. Sometimes through the Bible, or through other things I'm reading. Sometimes through memories or impressions or the behavior of other people. Through nature. And often, God speaks to me through the words and love of other people. "For example, Cassie, for years and years I've been lonely. I prayed to God for someone who would understand me. When I was a kid there was no one who really understood, who would let me lay my head on their shoulder and would just sit there, knowing how I felt, comforting me by their understanding."

I'd had a rough time with Tom earlier that day, and Cassie was very in tune with my struggle to sort it all out, as I sat on the big stump outside and just pondered and prayed. Tom tried to get me to "snap out of it," which is NOT what I needed. Joe asked what was wrong and was uncomfortable. No one likes it when Mom is quiet and thoughtful and unsettled.

But Cassie, after Tom went to work, came over and looked at me and sat down next to me.....right next to me. I just instinctively laid my head on her shoulder, and there was enormous comfort in that. She just sat there, knowing it was what I needed, and she offered it to me for as long as I needed. She's nine.

For decades I've prayed for someone to know me. All this time I've found my comfort in the invisible God. But I've still longed for a human's physical understanding. No, Tom doesn't do it for me. He tries. He loves me. But his efforts are often clumsy and forced. He, like a lot of men, doesn't know how to just be there and to listen, how to express himself. He just wants me well and back in control. Sometimes I just need to be a mess. And for the first time in my life, someone, Cassie, let me be a mess, without words, and I drew strength from her.

Well, as I continued answering her question about God's voice, I told her how God used her that day to speak His love and comfort to me. You should have seen her precious face! She appeared surprised, and honored, and it was as if she knew she'd entered into the holy, on God's behalf. We hugged and I tucked her in and we kissed, and I turned out the light. Caroline had fallen asleep already, breathing peacefully and heavily.

I went in to get dressed for bed myself, feeling really warm and loved and I was praying, thanking God for those little girls, and for the boys and for Tom and for how we all fit together and how we all are part of the plan for each other and for God. Cassie came in, softly, after knocking.

"Mommy, I was just thinking about what you said. Mommy, I was thinking how the thing that you never had when you were a girl, is the thing you have the most of now, and the thing that you give to all of us."

Her face didn't look like the face of a nine year old at that moment. It was the face of a messenger of God. We hugged. We transcended time and space, in that moment. We were kindred spirits, not a mother and daughter, a 45 year old and a 9 year old. We were creatures of God, meant for each other and for God, and it was beautiful. I told her that perhaps because I had a hole in my heart it made me a better Mommy, because I sure didn't want MY kids to ever have to feel that awful empty feeling. I told her I remember vividly how it feels to be a kid. I told her how I'd prayed for decades for someone to understand, and that I realize now, that she, my little Cassie, is the answer to that oft-repeated prayer!

At last, I have someone who understands! Someone who thinks as I do. I am nine again, and I can start all over, this time without the emptiness.

Never ever believe that God doesn't hear your prayers. He listens, and His timing is perfect. And the answers you await for your whole life appear quietly, on a summer's day, in the midst of the world's busyness, during the separate struggles of a mother and a daughter. Those answers appear, as we listen and make room.

Thank God for your struggles! They are the means for your heart to open up and listen and search intently, and they are the bearers of great blessing. Give them time.

January 2007 - Nuttin' Much to Say

Sam's got the right idea!

My inner child begs my outer adult to follow the pup's example.

Always honor the inner child.....

Heavy-lidded yawning carefree January.

Waking Joy

“We may say to ourselves, one day these souls of ours will blossom into the full sunshine, when all that is desirable in the commonness of daily love, and all we long for of wonder and mystery, and the look of Christmastime will be joined in one, and we shall walk as in a wondrous dream, yet with more sense of reality than most of our waking joy now gives us.”


~~~~~~~~~~~~ George MacDonald

Of Darkness, Candles, and Snow

You may have heard on the news about our Major Storm yesterday. Major Storm - sounds like a cartoon character, or a weatherman. Anyway, yes, it was a doozy!

A little after six o'clock we watched the trees begin to sway, and twist, and full-on watusi. Soon, debris was rolling and tumbling down the street: air filled plastic bags, huge unstowed garbage cans, and branches that had been torn from their limbs. Our trees lost a few smaller branches, nothing dangerous. This, for our area, is quite a significant distraction from the norm. Unusual weather gives us a buzz.

Around six thirty the power went out, right in the middle of It Takes a Thief, that show on Discovery with the two hunky reformed thieves who teach people about security by trashing their homes and robbing them blind. (Did that grumpy guy EVER get over Jon taking his classic 'vette?) Yep, the power flickered, went out, nope back on, nope out, yes, uh huh, okay, yyeeaaah .......it's gone.

When the power goes out here you pretty much just sit there for a moment or two because it usually comes back on. Not last night. We sat. We watched. I went outside. I'm getting over my cold, but not there yet. Still, I sat on the porch to watch the darkness. Don't worry, warm temperatures and thick clothes protected me. The kids made sure of it. All their hard work getting me well was not to be undone by a stupid dark-watching session.

While sitting on the porch I witnessed a few blasts and flashes of transformers blowing. Startling. Several blocks were out of power, cars began to drive slower down the street, people began to leave their homes. (Hmm, good time for a home robbery; yes, I watch too much TV.) It was peaceful. "I need to see how far and wide this outage goes," so the girls and I hopped into the car and drove around, just as the sideways downpour began, making the wipers' high speed seem like low/intermittent. Street lights were out, yet patient politeness ruled the night. Sweet! How odd to have a black hole in front of me while driving these familiar roads, when I'm used to being able to see all the way down the street due to street and house lights. Just weird. Like driving a country road - but we're in town!

Home again. Sitting there. Looking at each other. Quiet. Candles and oil lamps burning. How many times did Cassie go into the kitchen, flip the light switch, sag her shoulders, and sigh? We lost count. Habit supersedes cognizance. Words began to come. Quiet words of reminiscence, teasing, giggles, laughter. Togetherness in blankets. Peace settling in. Three hours and counting. This isn't so bad.

The winds continued to rip down the street and howl over the house. Through our large living room window I lazily kept my eyes on the silhouetted outdoor scene, when, what to my wandering eyes doth appear, but a sky-filling dark lime green glow, descending curtain-like, intensifying, wavering, shimmering, and eventually snaking away.

Huh? Wha??? Did you see that? What WAS that?? "Oh, Mama, you are so faking; you're trying to scare us."

"No, she's still hallucinating.....," snorts Joe.

"No, I'm not!! It was there....it....flashed.....lime green.....the ENTIRE EASTERN SKY!"

Jabbering, I returned to the porch. A few moments later, there it was again, more northerly. And later, it came again, only reddish. The girls witnessed these flashes.

Vindication - snort.

My computer brain began to decode what I'd seen. It remembered an article on The Drudge Report about a solar storm currently taking place, a big one, which was having its effect on the Earth.

Land Sakes! I think I saw the Northern Lights!! Aurora Borealis!!

Snap!!

To see the Aurora Borealis with my own eyes has long been high on my list of Things To Do Before I Die.

It was gloriously frightening. It was as awesome, startling, and as ethereal as I'd hoped. Maybe even more so because it was a mystery for several minutes.

Thank you, Matt Drudge, wherever you are.

Thank you Mother Nature for your storm.

Thank you God for all of the above.

And thanks, power fixing dudes, for restoring our lights, just in time for bed.

Morning has brought hail, sleet, snow - and blue sky sunshine. Buzz!

It really is the simple things in life.



Good photos of Aurora Borealis - these July 22, 2004 photos show pretty much what I saw last night, as far as color and form. Amazing to me to learn that these lights are visible to those of us in the Lower 48 all year long, but for the light pollution of the city which obliterates them from view. Thanks to God for his gift of good timing last night, which allowed me a magnificent blessing!

Turmoil

Unsought.
Invading - threatening - dark.
Bullying, heedless.
Rude.

Obligation? Response?
Gentleness earns bluster.
Kindness earns rant.
Then greets now.

Abandon hope?
Close doors, lock, bolt?
End, finito, enough?
I precede you? When?

Why repetition?
Kowtow, submit, capitulate. No.
Spoiled child, spoiled adult.
Fools dismiss wisdom.

Bleak situation
Demands strong will, heart.
"Enough light for the next step, Lord.
Just enough for one, more, step."

~~~~~ Ethan Itia, poet



It's been a rough day.



(Before you go there, no, it's not Tom or the kids. Something menacing this way comes.)

Christmas Cookies and Cheerful Children

Merry Christmas!!

Cassie (green teeth) and Caroline (red teeth) made these cookies while Christmas Carols filled the house, the Christmas Spirit energized all, and the scent of cookies wafted, yes wafted, up our noses driving us batty - GIVE ME SOME!!!!

Sweet Contentment

I had one of those moments today, you know the kind, where your body pulses with pink faced contentment. Oh my goodness.

Joe showed me a paper he had written for an art class at Gutenberg College. Marked with glowing comments from his tutor, and a circled capital 'A', the paper painted such a vivid picture that my blood warmed and my mouth turned up in a smile. The insights, the sophistication, the simplicity stopped my breath in my throat. It was great.

Then I thought about my other kids, and my husband, and the things they do which amaze me. Maybe they aren't grand world-changing things, but to me, they are marvelous.

Caroline made a batch of dinner rolls using one of Emeril's recipes and they beat any rolls I've ever made! They are ready for the Thanksgiving table. Such satisfaction, yet nonchalance. Hmmm. No big deal to her. She can do anything. I've always told her so.

Cassie can grow pumpkins, cut 'em up, cook 'em, squish 'em, and bake them up in pies that rival anything anyone's ever tasted, and I'm serious. She makes it look easy.

Ben sails with glee, abandon, and confidence. He takes beautiful photos that make me cry. He paid for and graduated college, manages a household full of young adults, works a full-time job, enjoys outdoor life in Oregon, and still has time for us, his family.

Tom never stops learning. He honestly believes he can fix or build anything on this house and he DOES. Anything. He amazes me, when I'm not taking him for granted.

Joe, yes, he writes beautifully. Like Ben, he pushes his boundaries outward, outward, outward, never settling, always seeking. Why, this spring the boy up and flew to England on his own just because he'd always dreamed of such a thing. Now he attends Gutenberg College where finally, after years of not finding his niche, he's found a place that matches his curiosity, a place which does not disappoint. He's working hard, full of energy, getting excellent grades. Purpose makes all the difference.

And then I think of me, the mom to these kids, the wife of Tom, and I am astonished and humbled at what has taken place in our lives in the last quarter century. To most it would seem like nothing. No big house. No new cars. No big paychecks, no nice clothes, nor celebrity. But to me, it is living, real living. Living that challenges, that satisfies. Simplicity. Mindfulness. It fits, and I like it.........today.

Grace of God.

Emptiness

"Sometimes nothin' can be a real cool hand."




~-~- Paul Newman in, "Cool Hand Luke" ~-~-

Fifteen Years

It was fifteen years ago today that Cassie came into this world, a curious, quiet, pink, pretty baby. My dad quickly named her, "The Most Beautiful Baby in the World!" She didn't have the usual misshapen head or discoloring, and she wasn't squalling. She was peaceful and her little eyes were wandering all around the room, though I'm told babies can't see very well. I am certain she had no idea how to interpret her vision. She seemed to be curiously trying to understand!

All I could do was cry and say quietly, "I have a daughter...wow."

"Thank you, God," was my prayer. Still is.

On that night, fifteen years ago, Tom, the boys, and I watched the World Series from my comfy hospital room, with Cassie in a small bassinet by the bed. The boys were ON the bed, drinking pop. Cassie was perfect! We went home that evening and slept soundly - all five of us. Excited and content, all at once.

I was PARTICULARLY content, as I'd suffered for several days with pneumonia, the coughing from which snapped a rib. Yep, I had a nearly full term baby inside, a broken rib, and a vicious cough, when here comes the onset of labor just as I was getting into bed for the night! It was a magical night........all night. It really was.

Cassie decided to remain in her comfy womb-home, to sleep the night off. She graciously let me sleep, too, in the hospital. No gymnastics that night. She was calm. In the late morning labor was induced, and in the afternoon Cassie was gently born. Such a relief for her.....and for me. The pneumonia abated. The rib slipped back into place to painfully grieve me no more. My pants fit again, and I felt TERRIFIC!!

My family of four had grown to a family of five with the birth of our beautiful healthy little girl......

......who's turned into a wonderful daughter, still curious, still pretty, and still a JOY!

Birthdays are fabulous reminders of our roots, our journey, our progress - and the mercies of God!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO TMBBITW, Cassie! (That's for you, Pam!)









P.S. Here's a picture of Cassie with her birthday cheesecake. What you can't hear is our off-key rendition of Happy Birthday to YOUUUU!! We had a perfect day!

Rising Above

"A secret of love is not voicing negative emotions, but waiting for calmness to return to its post. One who is upset perceives few things with clarity, though Emotion parade itself in the garb of revelation. Calm the heart: Only by so doing can you perceive things as they really are." ~~ J. Donald Walters

"Great minds discuss ideas. Average minds discuss events. Small minds discuss people." ~~ Eleanor Roosevelt


These concepts simmer in my mind and heart, hopefully to settle in, and join........ Me.

Bestest Friends

The first weekend of September Tom, Cassie, Caroline, and I rented a white PT-Cruiser and drove up to Olympia where we spent the night after snooping around the Capitol buildings, climbing up the steps, and marveling at the hugeness of the pillars and buildings. We were in Washington for a reason: HEIDI, STEPH, and NICK!!

Heidi and I have been friends for years, meeting on-line during my e-Bay years. She lives in Connecticut, but her daughter, son-in-law, and adorable grandson live in Washington. Heidi came out last summer to visit Steph and family, and we got to meet face to face for the first time in Portland! Such a blast!

And here, in 2006, we were about to have another close encounter of the exuberant kind!

We spent a good part of the day together, visiting Steph's comfy home, touring the Navel Museum, and eating lunch in Poulsbo. We met Nick for the first time. At seven months old he is the happiest baby we've ever beheld! You can't help but smile when you are around him.



See how jolly he is?!?!




Here we are eating lunch by the harbor of the Puget Sound. Blue sky, warm temperatures, great company, and terrific food made for a lovely lingering shared meal.










Steph took us to the Navel Submarine Museum. It was loaded with fascinating things, not the least of which were the control panels that one could pretend to manuever a sub with. Here Caroline and Heidi are deep into the fantasy! They were cracking me up!

The museum had displays of torpedos which Tom found quite fascinating. It was a great hands-on and educational place, and we all had a really fun time there.
















I miss you, Heidi! Can't wait to see you again!