So, just where is God in all of this?? Who is God? What is He? Since the age of 13 I have asked myself those hard questions. First, let me say that I am an introvert, always have been...totally fine with remaining on the outskirts of things, staying to myself and my own thoughts. I feel no great need to have steady reinforcement. I gain satisfaction in sitting and pondering the questions that most people won't go near. The potential answers too frightening for them, carrying the ability to shake the very foundation upon which lives have been fashioned. See, for me it doesn't matter. My foundation was shaken years ago, and has yet to be rebuilt.
Growing up, my experiences with church left a LOT to be desired. To say the very least. I saw and experienced firsthand the devilish abilities of the pronounced Christian. Say and do one thing while other Christians are watching...quite another story when outside of the 'holy building'. I did hang onto the basic idea that God does in fact exist. Yes, I told myself...there is a God in all of us...there is a Higher Power to be reckoned with, consulted, loved by, etc...I feel God's presence in my daily life, though I certainly do not always understand why I am being asked to take a certain less-traveled path, one that often knocks me to my knees, both spiritually and physically. Questioning myself doesn't mean that I question His presence in my life. Though it may appear so to others.
Recently, challenges in my life have brought these questions to the forefront. What is being asked of me? Where is God? What is he up to?? I struggle with trying to decipher the behavior of another, feeling around in the dark for what is the appropriate reaction for me to take. Let go and let God? or take the reigns and regain control myself...at what pointt do we surrender and let it all just be...not taking a defensive stance, but let Universal Law play out?
Hmmmm.....a part of me really wants to satisfy the human appetite for justice, for revenge, for payback...but the small whisper of my soul says to surrender in Love and Forgiveness...and that is HARD. When we encounter pain and suffering at the hands of another, basic human nature wants that person to suffer as well. We are governed by the Id, the Ego, superEgo, the conscious and the unconscious...the strong innate urge to feel pleasure at causing the person who causes us turmoil, to in turn feel his own turmoil. It may appear as though we have no backbone, in terms of modern society...if we just sit and allow things to happen. And, "weak" is a title to which the Ego doesn't take very kindly. But, wasn't it God who said "turn the other cheek"..."love and welcome your enemies"....huh??? Can this be done while taking a stance at self-preservation? I am thinking No.
Can't walk both sides of the fence. Can't stand for both teams. Or....can we?
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Sunday, September 26, 2010
My Mother's Hands
I was sitting and rocking my baby yesterday morning in the early light, watching the first timid rays peaking out from behind the misty mountains and something strange happened. I looked down at my hands and saw my mother's hands. In one split second I was taken back to my childhood when my mom would lay her hands on me when I was ill, reach out for me when I had gotten hurt, massage my legs when they ached so badly.
I saw skin that is growing older, no longer the hands of a young girl, tenderness in the fingers, felt the energy of loving, experienced hands. But these were my hands on my baby, not my mother's. It was surreal to be encompassed in that moment realizing that I truly have a Mother's hands. My hands are now the ones who reach out and offer comfort, rub pains away, nurse lovingly to sleep, hold and rock children. My children.
These moments of motherhood come along rarely, the ones that transport you back to when you were young. These aren't the kind of memories stamped in time by a photograph for your viewing pleasure. These are the kind of memories that hijack a moment and take you by surprise, yet offer profound realizations. My mom was firm and strict. But we knew she loved us, and although her hands were not always gentle, they offered a comfort and security that fulfilled us, made us know in our hearts where our place was in the scheme of life, connected us to our roots. Her hands offered guidance, discipline and love.
Looking down at my hands I felt the deep connection between my mother and myself, the crossing of generations, the passing down of true mothering in every sense of what that word truly means. Years of picking up and carrying babies, nursing wounds, hugging and wiping away tears, all the things that a Mother's hands govern.
A Mother's hands are earned, like a medal of honor that can never be taken away.
eta: this is a photograph taken when Serenity was only 4 weeks old, my mom's hand is on top, mine on the bottom...
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Baby Radar
Is this the sweetest face ever? Yep. Do I love him with all my heart? Naturally. Do I know how lucky I am to have him? Everyday.
This sweet thing is pretty zen, most of the time. Only cries when he needs something. Sleeps well. No longer fussy, like the nightmare days of colic.
Except while shopping.
It seems that my baby boy has a sixth sense, a radar if you will, and it is strictly tuned into entering deptartment stores, malls, grocery stores or anywhere else that I may need to go and purchase things. Stand in line. Follow a list. Think coherently.
Almost instantly upon entering any of said locations, Charlie takes this as his cue to scream like his butt is on fire, like no one loves him or feeds him, ever. Those of you who have had to take children shopping know what I mean when I say that attempting to shop with a screaming infant makes me feel like I am on crack and unable to put one foot in front of the other, let alone shop from a list and actually remember to get things we need. I wander the aisles like a lost five year old fighting back a torrent of tears. But that isn't the worst of it, if you can believe that.
The stares from people, the looks I get are enough to send me into the tailspin I am teetering on the brink of anyways. People assume that because your baby is crying, you have either done something to it, are ignoring it b/c you suck as a mother, or else you have no clue when it comes to parenting. The best ones are the people who follow you trying to catch you in the act of the abuse they are sure you have committed against your child. Hmmm...didn't I just see you in aisle four? I thought so. Let me just say that I look forward to grocery shopping like I would having my toenails slowly ripped off one by one.
Which explains why I am still sitting here in front of my computer at 9:30 on Sunday morning, when I should be on my way to the store.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Of Elephants and Babies...
Through our lives, we begin and conclude many journeys, some so powerful and deep it takes years to tread the path and detangle the lessons, others a mere day or minute, a realization, an awakening, an epiphany...
My fifth child was born nearly 8 weeks ago, a Cancer boy by astrological grouping, a Tiger according to the Chinese lunar cycle. Either way, a blessing he is! A strong boy in personality, yet as the youngest, born 12 years after the first, will struggle with finding his place within the family unit.
Since I delivered via midwife, it is expected that I write a birth narrative to share with other mothers, and also as a sense of closure to the pregnancy/genesis of the mothering of this tiny little soul.
Let me rewind just for a quick moment and give some background information, so that the profoundness of Charlie's birth story will be better understood.
I collect Elephants; I have for a few years now. Until last summer, I was relatively unsure of why I was drawn to these magnificent creatures, but just knew that I was fascinated by them and what they represent.
Elephants represent strength of the Feminine; the Child, the Woman, the Matriarchal Head of Family. Also the importance of Family and Fertility. The Elephant is a symbol of the Highest True Self; its symbolism is ancient.
Elephants live in separate social groups of females and male. The female herd cares for and protect the young elephants. The older, wiser elephants use their experience and wisdom to assist the young mothers of the herd with their calves. Elephants, within their herd, depict how close supportive relationships can be maintained between the generations of feminine members of the family, unlike most of human society.
Last summer, during the intensity of what I was experiencing, I began to see Elephants here and there. Items of course, but I felt they were there to direct me, to help lead me, to reassure me, to offer peace and Love during the most difficult time in my life. Whatever the item was, I would purchase it, take it home, place it within my environment and draw from it spiritually. As the months went by, I could feel my soul beginning to calm down, my spirit no longer screamed with every breath the pain and heartache. I began to emerge from the haze of fright and panic that I had bestowed upon myself.
The Elephants were guiding me, which of course were just tangible objects representing Love, God, whatever you wish to call the Higher Power that is there in each one of us. Through tribulation we are never alone, as the poem "Footprints" reads...if we choose to look, to listen, to be still, the answers to our prayers, our questions, are already there.
As the months wore on and I longed to have the chance to have another baby, I found that I was becoming discouraged with each passing cycle, I was feeling defeated and depressed.
One day I came across a little pink Elephant. It was in a bag of stuffed animals I dumped out on a table at the flea market to sell. I had never seen it before, had no idea where it came from. For a few minutes, I left it sit there, people walked by, some picked it up, asked its price...but no one bought it. For some reason I felt so compelled to pick that Elephant up and keep it, so finally I did. I took it home that evening and placed it at my bedside, beside the Laughing Buddha on my table. Since it was pink, I researched the color pink and found that Pink is the color of sweetness – babies, it also can mean highest or best degree of something, the color of Universal Love…stand for beauty, grace and goodness….
I took this to mean that the Universe was beside me, loving me …that the greatest good will be done and, since it is on the elephant, I related that to fertility and family – meaning to me that I would soon have the baby I longed for, so once again I felt wrapped in peace and felt restored.
The following weekend, while on a weekend vacation with my then-fiancé, we happened upon a store that sold collectibles of all shapes, sizes and nature. I found a section of Elephants, and immediately was drawn to a larger statue of a Mother elephant with two babies on her back, her trunk held high. I simply could not walk out of the store without that statue; I could feel the emotion of the mother as she carried her babies. It was that weekend that I conceived my 5th child..one baby on the elephant back represented him, the other is Clay, my angel baby..he will always be with me and that was God's way of bringing it all together.
Fast-forward nine months, to delivery day for baby Charlie - July 6, 2010. The day is progressing without incident, I am feeling good, and things are going smoothly. I am noticing that for some reason the pain isn't bad at all, in fact they have to urge me to go ahead and begin epidural, telling me that my contractions are getting stronger and I should be wanting it soon. At one point, the midwife who was training under my midwife comes into the room and starts talking about this particular labor and delivery room. It has a certain nickname and is the most requested room in the unit when a member of the hospital staff has a baby, not just because of its beautiful view of the mountains. Would you like to know the nickname for this room?
The Elephant Room.
As she explained to me the reason for the nickname, the fact that the mountains look like a mother and baby elephant facing one another, I sat there in total shock at the way God can intercept a moment and flood it with meaning and emotion, somehow bringing together all that has been misunderstood. It all came through me at that point with such clarity, the past year, my journey to this point in my life, what elephants mean to me and how much a part of the journey they have been..It all just came together with a resounding sense of completion. I felt waves of peace and joy wash over me and I realized how profound this really was, a defining moment in my life.
Three hours later my son entered the world, effortlessly, smoothly, like an angel singing a lullaby.
One journey ends. A new one begins.
My fifth child was born nearly 8 weeks ago, a Cancer boy by astrological grouping, a Tiger according to the Chinese lunar cycle. Either way, a blessing he is! A strong boy in personality, yet as the youngest, born 12 years after the first, will struggle with finding his place within the family unit.
Since I delivered via midwife, it is expected that I write a birth narrative to share with other mothers, and also as a sense of closure to the pregnancy/genesis of the mothering of this tiny little soul.
Let me rewind just for a quick moment and give some background information, so that the profoundness of Charlie's birth story will be better understood.
I collect Elephants; I have for a few years now. Until last summer, I was relatively unsure of why I was drawn to these magnificent creatures, but just knew that I was fascinated by them and what they represent.
Elephants represent strength of the Feminine; the Child, the Woman, the Matriarchal Head of Family. Also the importance of Family and Fertility. The Elephant is a symbol of the Highest True Self; its symbolism is ancient.
Elephants live in separate social groups of females and male. The female herd cares for and protect the young elephants. The older, wiser elephants use their experience and wisdom to assist the young mothers of the herd with their calves. Elephants, within their herd, depict how close supportive relationships can be maintained between the generations of feminine members of the family, unlike most of human society.
Last summer, during the intensity of what I was experiencing, I began to see Elephants here and there. Items of course, but I felt they were there to direct me, to help lead me, to reassure me, to offer peace and Love during the most difficult time in my life. Whatever the item was, I would purchase it, take it home, place it within my environment and draw from it spiritually. As the months went by, I could feel my soul beginning to calm down, my spirit no longer screamed with every breath the pain and heartache. I began to emerge from the haze of fright and panic that I had bestowed upon myself.
The Elephants were guiding me, which of course were just tangible objects representing Love, God, whatever you wish to call the Higher Power that is there in each one of us. Through tribulation we are never alone, as the poem "Footprints" reads...if we choose to look, to listen, to be still, the answers to our prayers, our questions, are already there.
As the months wore on and I longed to have the chance to have another baby, I found that I was becoming discouraged with each passing cycle, I was feeling defeated and depressed.
One day I came across a little pink Elephant. It was in a bag of stuffed animals I dumped out on a table at the flea market to sell. I had never seen it before, had no idea where it came from. For a few minutes, I left it sit there, people walked by, some picked it up, asked its price...but no one bought it. For some reason I felt so compelled to pick that Elephant up and keep it, so finally I did. I took it home that evening and placed it at my bedside, beside the Laughing Buddha on my table. Since it was pink, I researched the color pink and found that Pink is the color of sweetness – babies, it also can mean highest or best degree of something, the color of Universal Love…stand for beauty, grace and goodness….
I took this to mean that the Universe was beside me, loving me …that the greatest good will be done and, since it is on the elephant, I related that to fertility and family – meaning to me that I would soon have the baby I longed for, so once again I felt wrapped in peace and felt restored.
The following weekend, while on a weekend vacation with my then-fiancé, we happened upon a store that sold collectibles of all shapes, sizes and nature. I found a section of Elephants, and immediately was drawn to a larger statue of a Mother elephant with two babies on her back, her trunk held high. I simply could not walk out of the store without that statue; I could feel the emotion of the mother as she carried her babies. It was that weekend that I conceived my 5th child..one baby on the elephant back represented him, the other is Clay, my angel baby..he will always be with me and that was God's way of bringing it all together.
Fast-forward nine months, to delivery day for baby Charlie - July 6, 2010. The day is progressing without incident, I am feeling good, and things are going smoothly. I am noticing that for some reason the pain isn't bad at all, in fact they have to urge me to go ahead and begin epidural, telling me that my contractions are getting stronger and I should be wanting it soon. At one point, the midwife who was training under my midwife comes into the room and starts talking about this particular labor and delivery room. It has a certain nickname and is the most requested room in the unit when a member of the hospital staff has a baby, not just because of its beautiful view of the mountains. Would you like to know the nickname for this room?
The Elephant Room.
As she explained to me the reason for the nickname, the fact that the mountains look like a mother and baby elephant facing one another, I sat there in total shock at the way God can intercept a moment and flood it with meaning and emotion, somehow bringing together all that has been misunderstood. It all came through me at that point with such clarity, the past year, my journey to this point in my life, what elephants mean to me and how much a part of the journey they have been..It all just came together with a resounding sense of completion. I felt waves of peace and joy wash over me and I realized how profound this really was, a defining moment in my life.
Three hours later my son entered the world, effortlessly, smoothly, like an angel singing a lullaby.
One journey ends. A new one begins.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
So, it has indeed been awhile...
Getting back into the groove of blogging, something to which I used to look forward with great anticipation now comes difficult. Choppier. Like molasses being coaxed from the jar on a cold winter morning, the thoughts are hidden deep in the recesses of my mind, but pouring them out is gonna take some work folks.
Let me first share the fabulous news that I am pregnant with number five, he is due to come out tomorrow. TOMORROW. June 30th. Although I find myself impatient with the discomfort of the last weeks of pregnancy, I also hear the whispers from my soul reminding me of how lucky I am to be in this situation. BUT, I am not back to repaint the garage of doom with colors of grey and gloom...I made it through that lesson, and from it was granted a new chance, given a new gift of life, in more ways than one.
My kids are all doing well, Ja is a pre-teen, true to the word, M is a mature and playful 9 year old, Jo is a witty intelligent 7 year old, and little S isn't so little anymore, soon to be 5. And the grand finale will be little Charlie, as soon as he decides to make his appearance that is...
Let me first share the fabulous news that I am pregnant with number five, he is due to come out tomorrow. TOMORROW. June 30th. Although I find myself impatient with the discomfort of the last weeks of pregnancy, I also hear the whispers from my soul reminding me of how lucky I am to be in this situation. BUT, I am not back to repaint the garage of doom with colors of grey and gloom...I made it through that lesson, and from it was granted a new chance, given a new gift of life, in more ways than one.
My kids are all doing well, Ja is a pre-teen, true to the word, M is a mature and playful 9 year old, Jo is a witty intelligent 7 year old, and little S isn't so little anymore, soon to be 5. And the grand finale will be little Charlie, as soon as he decides to make his appearance that is...
Thursday, September 10, 2009
When will it be enough?
Why aren't they enough anymore? Why don't I find joy in all that used to bring me deep fulfillment?
Now that I have extinguished the relationship with any readers I may have once had, by always posting such gloomy stuff, I can simply vent all over this blog and it is my own space..for which I am thankful b/c it seems that lately all I have to say contains a thread of sadness. No one wants to read about sadness all the time...
I can't get past, cannot accept within myself, this deep sorrow...and there isn't a damn thing I can do to rescue my heart, to make it right again within my soul.
I periodically read a few blogs written by those who have lost babies, either before birth or shortly thereafter, those struggling to conceive, plowing through numerous attempts at IVF only to have their dreams fall apart time and time again - situations totally out of their control. Their grief is justified, I feel like an invader when I read those blogs, although the feeling of loss I can now relate to.
It is a living nightmare, one that never goes away and taints my , well, everything...
I go to the store, I see babies with their moms..I go out and see women with pregnant bellies everywhere. The stab of pain never really becomes less...so many times a day, so many I lose count...24 weeks it would be, 26 weeks it would be, and so on...I would know the gender of the baby (though i knew his gender the moment I realized I was pregnant - so strong was the connection already), I would be able to feel his movement, my belly would be round and fruitful...I would soon be able to proudly show off five kids, instead of four.
I look at my children, their sweet innocent faces. The nightmare, it seems it will never end, I will never be the same as I was, whatever that was, whoever she was...is gone. Replaced by a robot who can mimic the motions of daily existence, can take care of the kids, do what has to be done - but totally void of real feeling anymore, real joy has left my world...
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Just when you think you have it rough...
Please visit a blog I came across while chatting with friends on facebook. It is an amazing journey this family is on...and a precious life of a small baby boy with remarkable fighting spirit hangs in the balance. The strength of the mother is second to none. If I were her, I would be a ball of mess....
I have tried three times to insert it as a hyperlink - blogger isn't allowing it atm.
So, here it is:
www.mycharmingkids.net
edited to add: I did manage to add Stellan's button to my page - just scroll down on the right and click on it - it will take you straight to the blog..pass it on, please.
I have tried three times to insert it as a hyperlink - blogger isn't allowing it atm.
So, here it is:
www.mycharmingkids.net
edited to add: I did manage to add Stellan's button to my page - just scroll down on the right and click on it - it will take you straight to the blog..pass it on, please.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Master Rumi's timeless words
Poems from another time...
Welcome difficulty.
Learn the alchemy true human beings know.
The moment you accept what troubles you've been given,
the door opens.
Welcome difficulty as a familiar comrade.
Joke with torment brought by the friend.
Sorrows are the rags of old clothes and jackets
that serve to cover and then are taken off.
That undressing, and the beautiful naked body underneath,
is the sweetness that comes after grief.
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning, a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness
comes as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and attend them all,
even if they're a crowd of sorrows
who violently sweep your house empty of its furniture!
Still treat each guest honorably.
It may be clearing you out for some new delights.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing, and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent as a guide from beyond.
Welcome difficulty.
Learn the alchemy true human beings know.
The moment you accept what troubles you've been given,
the door opens.
Welcome difficulty as a familiar comrade.
Joke with torment brought by the friend.
Sorrows are the rags of old clothes and jackets
that serve to cover and then are taken off.
That undressing, and the beautiful naked body underneath,
is the sweetness that comes after grief.
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning, a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness
comes as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and attend them all,
even if they're a crowd of sorrows
who violently sweep your house empty of its furniture!
Still treat each guest honorably.
It may be clearing you out for some new delights.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing, and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent as a guide from beyond.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Team Spirit
Pictures of the end of season game, All-Stars games begin this Monday. The boys had such fun this year! And how 'bout that Serenity with the cotton candy, eh? A girl's gotta have a little fun too! Yum!
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
The Soul's voice
Sometimes the soul DIRECTLY challenges the structure of our personal life.
Below is a poem included in Rodger Housden's book Ten Poems to Set You Free.
THE LAYERS
I have walked through many lives
some of them my own,
And I am not who I was
though some principle of being abides,
from which I struggle not to stray
When I look behind
as I am compelled to look
Before I can gather
strength to proceed on my journey,
I see the milestones dwindling
toward the horizon
and the slow fires trailing
from the abandoned campsites,
over which scavenger angels
wheel on heavy wings
Oh, I have made myself a tribe
out of my true affections
and my tribe is scattered!
How shall the heart be reconciled
to its feast of losses?
In a rising wind
the manic dust of my friends,
those who fell along the the way
bitterly stings my face
yet I turn, I turn,
exulting somewhat
with my will intact to go
wherever I need to go
and every stone on the road
precious to me
In my darkest night,
when the moon was covered
and I roamed through wreckage,
a nimbus-clouded voice
directed me:
"Live in the layers
not in the Litter"
Though I lack the art
to decipher it,
no doubt the next chapter
in my book of transformations
is already written.
I am not done with my changes.
Below is a poem included in Rodger Housden's book Ten Poems to Set You Free.
THE LAYERS
I have walked through many lives
some of them my own,
And I am not who I was
though some principle of being abides,
from which I struggle not to stray
When I look behind
as I am compelled to look
Before I can gather
strength to proceed on my journey,
I see the milestones dwindling
toward the horizon
and the slow fires trailing
from the abandoned campsites,
over which scavenger angels
wheel on heavy wings
Oh, I have made myself a tribe
out of my true affections
and my tribe is scattered!
How shall the heart be reconciled
to its feast of losses?
In a rising wind
the manic dust of my friends,
those who fell along the the way
bitterly stings my face
yet I turn, I turn,
exulting somewhat
with my will intact to go
wherever I need to go
and every stone on the road
precious to me
In my darkest night,
when the moon was covered
and I roamed through wreckage,
a nimbus-clouded voice
directed me:
"Live in the layers
not in the Litter"
Though I lack the art
to decipher it,
no doubt the next chapter
in my book of transformations
is already written.
I am not done with my changes.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
In the pain there is healing
Wild Geese
You do not have to be good
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
~Mary Oliver
You do not have to be good
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
~Mary Oliver
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Altered perceptions
The picture: My brother and I with my mother. Circa 1981.
Over the holidays, we gathered together at the table one evening and poured over old family photos. It was so much fun and very humbling at the same time. It is so funny to compare the memories we hold in our minds to an actual, tangible record - the indisputable, old-fashioned Kodak color print. My how they differ! There were moments I was in total hysterics and could hardly breathe from laughter, and other moments where the reality of how it really all was struck me deep to my core.
Being a parent, I do more than just match recollections with photos, I look back at the pictures through a filter, comparing my childhood with that of my own kids. Do they look like I did? Do they like the same things I liked back then? Am I parenting like my parents did (and that can go either way, people)? What will they rememeber? What are their high points and low points?
Concerning the picture above, I vaguely remember that vacation. I was six. It was Disney World, a desitination that my family was fortunately able to enjoy more than one time and I have a lot of happy memories from those vacations. As an adult, and hearing the perspective of my mother - these vacations that my father was so keen on taking was in exchange for college educations as it turned out. At least the kind of college educations that parents pay for. He focused on the big childhood moments while my mother stretched the dollar to buy food and clothing for us kids. So, pictures can be misleading, you see. By appearances, we had extravagances, lavish motorhomes and boats, big Christmases, but behind the scenes, our clothes came from garage sales, my mother grocery-shopped with a pendaflex of coupons, we lacked home decor in every sense of the word, etc.
You just never know with pictures.
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.
Right?
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.
What does something as innocent as a mere moment entail, connote, mean?
Moments drive the ever-encroaching shoreline of our lives.
Right?
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?
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
Ponderings
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)
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.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
They are following me and calling me Mommy
Ain't I lucky?!
Though the colors are fading rapidly, our hike through the beautiful forests of the Blue Ridge Parkway was absolutely awesome. The weather couldn't have been nicer. The kids were out of school for Veteran's Day so off we went. The quest for the prettiest fallen leaf got going along with lots of good-natured leaf-throwing and piggy-back rides. I love these times with my kids - away from the house and all of its distractions. ( I had my cell on me though, but only in case we saw a bear. Don't ask me how that would help, but it made me feel better...;)
After our hike we hit our favorite park and had it all to ourselves!
A fun time had by all.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
The 'Rock'
The scene: a noisy dinner table.
Children chattering, all trying to be heard above the next.
Spoons clattering on mismatched soup dishes.
The squeak of the wipe-off board marker. What? you may ask. How odd. A wipe-off marker? Where does that fit in?
Dinner time is a time of talking about what has gone on for each family member during the day, a time to come together and share, but a couple years ago we also started playing educational games while we are eating. It helps cultivate team effort, assists in learning even after the school day is long over, and it is just plain fun.
So, tonight, as my Jacob was drawing ever so carefully the lines for his word on the Star Wars wipe-off board, it happened.
Jacob gave us the theme (person, place, thing). We had been talking a bit about Obama, and all the good changes he is going to make for our country, so i guessed 'president'. Before he could fill in the letters (I was right) Serenity burst out with a loud and gleeful "Rock-O-Bama"! Followed by fits of laughter and soup hurriedly swallowed so as not to spew all over fellow dinner mates, we all said in unison: What?
To which she even more happily cried, "You know Mommy, "Rock-O-Bama"!
Being only three, obviously her pronunciation is a bit off, but even at the tender age of three she has picked up on all the excitement and even the name of our new president-elect.
That's right Baby.
Spot on.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
America, you did it
President Barack Obama.
The name rolls easily.
As have his speeches and his smooth way of being with the people.
Change is inevitable, it is here already with unprecedented voting turnout with last night's election and the fact that we have elected the first African-American to office.
Who would have thought, on September 11, 2001, as we watched our friends and family, fellow citizens fight for their lives as those planes invaded our space and sucker-punched our country, that we would, 7 years later, elect a man into our highest political office who has biological heritage to the very members of society who formulated and executed the attack?
I am not a racist by any stretch of the imagination, I just find it ironic.
My state, the state of NC, is still tied at 7:30 this morning. Though, not due to Asheville voters, I am certain. Every car within 30 miles of this mountain city has for the last year sported Obama stickers of every make and color.
I crave something different for our country, but close to the end of this race, I began to question whether Obama actually has our best interests at heart. Is government control in huge areas such as health care and education really a good idea in the long run? Isn't it a bit Socialistic? No doubts that Obama will have to raise taxes to make those changes he has been raving about, it will have to happen. Are we sacrificing our freedoms, rights, and what makes us Americans by wanting a government health care program and other huge plans he has for our country? Once those freedoms are infringed upon, and the hand of control is resting within each of our lives, it is almost impossible to reverse it.
Barack's oratory has been to say the least, captivating. Sleeves rolled up, identifying with the working man/woman. Inciting feelings of patriotism to the core of Americans. His stance on war gained him millions of supporters. But have we paid close attention to the rest of what Obama has been saying and read between the lines? Studied the economic plans? Or are we guilty of leaping, then looking?
I don't know...I am happy that McCain isn't in office, but to tell you the truth, I am a bit anxious about what comes now. Total control by any party isn't necessarily a great thing, and that is where our nation sits for the next four years.
Guess we will wait and see...
The name rolls easily.
As have his speeches and his smooth way of being with the people.
Change is inevitable, it is here already with unprecedented voting turnout with last night's election and the fact that we have elected the first African-American to office.
Who would have thought, on September 11, 2001, as we watched our friends and family, fellow citizens fight for their lives as those planes invaded our space and sucker-punched our country, that we would, 7 years later, elect a man into our highest political office who has biological heritage to the very members of society who formulated and executed the attack?
I am not a racist by any stretch of the imagination, I just find it ironic.
My state, the state of NC, is still tied at 7:30 this morning. Though, not due to Asheville voters, I am certain. Every car within 30 miles of this mountain city has for the last year sported Obama stickers of every make and color.
I crave something different for our country, but close to the end of this race, I began to question whether Obama actually has our best interests at heart. Is government control in huge areas such as health care and education really a good idea in the long run? Isn't it a bit Socialistic? No doubts that Obama will have to raise taxes to make those changes he has been raving about, it will have to happen. Are we sacrificing our freedoms, rights, and what makes us Americans by wanting a government health care program and other huge plans he has for our country? Once those freedoms are infringed upon, and the hand of control is resting within each of our lives, it is almost impossible to reverse it.
Barack's oratory has been to say the least, captivating. Sleeves rolled up, identifying with the working man/woman. Inciting feelings of patriotism to the core of Americans. His stance on war gained him millions of supporters. But have we paid close attention to the rest of what Obama has been saying and read between the lines? Studied the economic plans? Or are we guilty of leaping, then looking?
I don't know...I am happy that McCain isn't in office, but to tell you the truth, I am a bit anxious about what comes now. Total control by any party isn't necessarily a great thing, and that is where our nation sits for the next four years.
Guess we will wait and see...
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