Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Hangin' by a Moment

Ever spend any time contemplating a moment?
What does something as innocent as a mere moment entail, connote, mean?

Moments drive the ever-encroaching shoreline of our lives.
We age, moment by moment, leaving behind youth, growing toward life's final epic moment.
When I was a kid - and yep, I was a weird kid - I used to sit and tell myself, "you are younger this minute...than now". Etc. For clusters of minutes, driven by an introverted perspective on life, I played these strange games with myself in my mind. I thought a lot; I didn't speak much. It just was.

In a moment, do you pause before running toward the ocean's foamy waves? Or, do you walk hesitantly, feeling the water creep over your toes and inch its way up your ankles, then retreat in a flurry, only to be repeated in a second or two.

What puts you at ease in a moment of panic?
We all relish, of course, those peaceful moments, the kind perfect for reflecting and 'smelling the roses'. Noticing the happenings in one's hum drum existence that are often overlooked in the course of the hurried moments every normal day brings with it, without our expressed permission. It just is.

What can a moment contain? What can be done in sixty seconds - if we are defining a moment as equal to a minute, which for the sake of this conversation, let's play it that way.
A moment can carry within it, say, the answer to a test question, a parent's unsolicited advice, a birth, a death, an epiphany, an orgasm, etc. There are activities that require clusters of moments, such as driving to work, or getting a haircut. Moments can be monotonous and indistinguishable, falling in behind each other like ants working toward a common goal of completion. Or moments can be life-altering. Everything changes in the blink of an eye kind of moments.
Sometimes moments can be wishy-washy and noncommittal.

Something as seemingly inconspicuous as a mere moment.
Crafty little buggers - those moments.

Sunday, January 4, 2009

If all the Raindrops were Lemon drops and Gumdrops...

This morning, walking into the store:
Max says "Mommy, I wish the world were made of candy".
Journey chimed in and started singing "yea, all candy!"

Me: "Really? But then we would all melt when it rains (as it has done nearly every day for like three weeks now)."

Max: "No, all the raindrops would be candy too - everything would just be candy!"

It is possible that my kids have had FAR too many sugar-coated Christmas treats this year.
Ya think?

Saturday, January 3, 2009


I absolutely must say, without hesitation, that I love my life. All of it. The high moments, the dumpy times, the heartbreak, the elation, the joys, the sorrows, etc. I want nothing more than to be positioned right in the midst of all that I claim as my life. All that it means to me and encompasses within its appearance to others and their perceptions. Most of the time my life and I, we get along quite well. The ebb and flow are natural and predictable. Having said that, there are undeniably times of course when it and I bump and snag one another, setting off a chain reaction that is anything but smooth.

Like most folks, when the new year arrives with all it's confetti-like splendor, I find myself pondering the year gone by ~ reminiscing and reliving it's moments one after another. Memories roll over me like warm ocean waves cascade over the golden summer sand. Of course, I succumb to it and allow it to envelop me with all its emotion and strength.
My only resolution each year is that I refuse to make any resolutions. I find them to be ultimately redundant and intangible devices with which we later torture ourselves. It never ceases to amaze me how fast each year passes. Why spend the first three months of it beating myself up about not adhering to my "resolutions"? Month in and month out, seasons come and go. In many ways, it is always the same - the days and weeks and months. But, within the shell of each one is transcribed a different story than the year before, thereby imprinting the passage of time uniquely.
A year older.
A year wiser.
A year spent learning how to embark upon the journey of one's soul.
A year spent making friends with the struggling and learning to welcome it with open heart.
A year spent learning to pay attention to the Now.
This Moment. It really is ALL there is.
A year spent admitting I was making huge mistakes with my kids, humbling myself, and learning how to be a mother my children will come home to when they are grown.
A year spent reliving old family patterns, passed down unconsciously through generations and coming to realize that living in the past is heartbreaking and serves no ultimate purpose except to perpetuate pain.
A year watching my children evolve 365 days closer to who they will ultimately be. And then questioning if we ever really become who we set out to become. What is that anyway?
A year spent wallowing around in the self-pity of unemployment followed by the liberation of coming full circle.
A year filled with firsts - preschool graduation, last baby out of diapers(!!), first try at baseball, first day of Kindergarten, first day of the last year of elementary school, and so much more.
A year spent trying to figure out what love really means and whether or not it must fall into a category or can be something all its own ~ deviant and indifferent to societal norms.

Sitting here, cuddling up to my cup of Hot Chai, I can feel it. My life is so full of energy, of happiness, of eagerness. I am so grateful for every inch. To look from the outside in, we don't have much. Many people would wonder how we can live on so little, so scarce, scratch by for what we need without going crazy. But they don't know the secret.It doesn't take the newest clothes, the best shoes, the fanciest car, expensive furniture, and all the other material things people hunger after, to be truly happy with one's life. The simple act of focusing on what you have and expressing gratitude instead of concentrating on what you wish for or don't have will illuminate your life in a totally different light.

As Byron Katie so blatantly put it: "Who would you be without that thought"?

(children fighting...more later)

Thursday, January 1, 2009

More please!

I could say a lot of philosophical things about the past year, affirmations and hopes for the new year and so on. But, as I was formulating that post and searching through last year's picture archives, I realized something. Most of all in this upcoming year I want more moments like these, please.