This week... well - nevermind. It was a week, we'll leave it at that.
In this week, I had my children with me on Wednesday because their dad had jury duty. Daughter's blanket got left at day care that evening. If you have kids, and you know about blankies, then you know what a catastrophe that is. By the time she realized where it was, it was too late to go get it. In that night, I learned that hugging your mom is a good substitute for a blanket, but also that having to take your security between homes really makes a child long for the family she remembers - not this "family" that lives in different homes.
In this week, there was a parent's night program at daughter's school. Son sat with his dad and paternal grandparents. We saw each other and waved during the program, and the smile on his face when he saw me was purely joy. Same with daughter when she saw me in the audience. After the performance, I went to give daughter hugs and congratulations. Son, being small, and in the crowd, lost sight of me - and burst into tears because he thought I left without hugging him.
Oh... my heart. I wish I could hold these children close to me forever. I hope that my hugs will always help their heartbreaks.
Friday, April 29, 2011
Sunshine
Hello, sunshine. I'm glad you are here. Please stay, and have fun with springtime. Thank you. That is all.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Full speed
As I begin typing - this is only a half-formed thought...
I think I don't know how to live a "slow" life. I think I am a full-speed kind of person. As much as I often think "Holy crap! I am too busy!"..... when I am not "too busy" then I get bored and dissatisfied with my life.
What I think my real challenge should be is not to slow down, per se... but to make sure the things that keep me busy are true priorities in my life.
In college during a managerial commnunications course - we got an illustrative example of what it means to live according to values and priorities..
Imagine you have a 5 quart jar, and piles of rocks of varying sizes, and then gravel, and then sand. There's enough sand to fill up the entire jar... but when you pick up the sand - it falls through your fingers, and takes great effort to fill the jar. There's enough gravel to fill the jar. It's easier to pick up, and you can fill your jar more quickly - but it still takes time. What if you start with the big rocks? They are substantial... they will quickly fill the jar. There will still be gaps, but you can add in gravel, and sand - and the jar is full.
The jar is your life. The big rocks should be your dearest values and priorities. Fill your life with those things first. It still leaves room for lower priorities... the gravel and the sand, but if those things slip through your fingers - the loss is not substantial to a full life, well lived.
I've been thinking about that a lot these days - that I want a life with substance... that doesn't just slip past without my notice, like sand through my fingers.
I think I don't know how to live a "slow" life. I think I am a full-speed kind of person. As much as I often think "Holy crap! I am too busy!"..... when I am not "too busy" then I get bored and dissatisfied with my life.
What I think my real challenge should be is not to slow down, per se... but to make sure the things that keep me busy are true priorities in my life.
In college during a managerial commnunications course - we got an illustrative example of what it means to live according to values and priorities..
Imagine you have a 5 quart jar, and piles of rocks of varying sizes, and then gravel, and then sand. There's enough sand to fill up the entire jar... but when you pick up the sand - it falls through your fingers, and takes great effort to fill the jar. There's enough gravel to fill the jar. It's easier to pick up, and you can fill your jar more quickly - but it still takes time. What if you start with the big rocks? They are substantial... they will quickly fill the jar. There will still be gaps, but you can add in gravel, and sand - and the jar is full.
The jar is your life. The big rocks should be your dearest values and priorities. Fill your life with those things first. It still leaves room for lower priorities... the gravel and the sand, but if those things slip through your fingers - the loss is not substantial to a full life, well lived.
I've been thinking about that a lot these days - that I want a life with substance... that doesn't just slip past without my notice, like sand through my fingers.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Sorrow
Late last week, a girl that I used to baby sit died while giving birth to her first child. Her daughter lived for four days, and now sleeps with her mama.
There aren't adequate words for this depth of sorrow, and the only way to answer it is with hope and faith.
There aren't adequate words for this depth of sorrow, and the only way to answer it is with hope and faith.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Words that start with "W"
Winter
As I type this - it is April 16th, and there is about an inch and a half of fresh, wet, slushy snow on the ground outside. I tell myself that I'm Minnesotan, and I can handle this, and heh - this kind of winter keeps the less sturdy and reliable out of this state. But inside, I am thinking "It's been snowing since November. I should move to Texas. They have grass and flowers in April."
In my nearly 4 decades of life, I can remember only 2 winters this long and disgusting.... and in neither of those winters was I solely responsible for snow removal. It does get old. I am hoping my budget next year can support hiring someone to do it for me.
Water
Also as I type this, I have water in my basement, still. My house is old, it doesn't have a sump pump, and I'm two blocks away from a lake. The snow melt has raised the water table, and I'm getting seepage up through the floor. I was moderately heartbroken to realize that in order to make my basement a finished, livable area, I will need to invest some serious money into keeping it dry. And even if I can accept some dampness and leave it unfinished - I still need a sump pump.
Whine
So there's my whining for this month. Spring needs to get here, before I start hating snow forever and to help some of the water evaporate so I can assess my basement and at least re-seal the concrete.
As I type this - it is April 16th, and there is about an inch and a half of fresh, wet, slushy snow on the ground outside. I tell myself that I'm Minnesotan, and I can handle this, and heh - this kind of winter keeps the less sturdy and reliable out of this state. But inside, I am thinking "It's been snowing since November. I should move to Texas. They have grass and flowers in April."
In my nearly 4 decades of life, I can remember only 2 winters this long and disgusting.... and in neither of those winters was I solely responsible for snow removal. It does get old. I am hoping my budget next year can support hiring someone to do it for me.
Water
Also as I type this, I have water in my basement, still. My house is old, it doesn't have a sump pump, and I'm two blocks away from a lake. The snow melt has raised the water table, and I'm getting seepage up through the floor. I was moderately heartbroken to realize that in order to make my basement a finished, livable area, I will need to invest some serious money into keeping it dry. And even if I can accept some dampness and leave it unfinished - I still need a sump pump.
Whine
So there's my whining for this month. Spring needs to get here, before I start hating snow forever and to help some of the water evaporate so I can assess my basement and at least re-seal the concrete.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Oh poop!
Recently, my daughter went to the Science Museum with a friend from school on a Saturday. She was thrilled and excited to be having her first play date. I was excited and a little nervous both. I needn't have worried. She had a great time playing on the musical stairs, and seeing dinosaur bones. She was bored and a little freaked out by the presentation about King Tut.
My favorite part? She came home with a rainstick, fossilized dinosaur poop, and a pretty coin purse in which to store her treasure.
Oh daughter - I love you.
My favorite part? She came home with a rainstick, fossilized dinosaur poop, and a pretty coin purse in which to store her treasure.
Oh daughter - I love you.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
The difficulty of love.
A lot of my meditation and devotional time lately has been focused on love. I've had more than one conversation about love being a hard thing to live, and a hard thing to let yourself feel.
But as I meditate and read, what has struck me most is this - it is NOT hard to love. It is not hard to feel love for another person.
I look at my children, and it's an overwhelming thing at times - seeing them grow and being amazed at the people they are becoming, and feeling responsible to help them grow into their strong own selves. What a gift they are. Loving them is easy even though the WORK involved in seeing them to adulthood will not always be fun. (I am actively suppressing the memory of a lap full of cold cereal this past week.)
I see my parents - the love they have for each other, the love they have for their children, grandchildren, and extended family and friends. I know I love them too - and that love has changed over time as I've grown and matured. That love has been a constant of my life - giving me the strength and resilience I didn't know I'd need.
So why do we think it is hard to love? It's an inherent desire of humans to love, and to seek love, and to be loved.
It's hard because we don't always think we are worth loving. Because it is hard to love someone who hurts you without thinking. It is hard to let someone else love you when you feel like the meanest, most awful person on the planet. It is hard to let yourself be vulnerable enough and open enough to be hurt. So we want love, but we don't always want to do the work within ourselves to let love be easy.
We sublimate, pushing that desire for love into things like hobbies, or employment, or food, or sleep, or sex, or drugs. Trying to justify it to ourselves, or make it look good for other people. It is easier to think you are doing something that will make it easier for someone to love you because you're good at work, or good at sewing, or you work out everyday.
Love is not hard. Letting people love you for your true self is what is hard - because it demands that you be your true self. None of this is new thought. Other people have said it more eloquently. It's just wisdom that I am learning slowly to get better at being my true self.
But as I meditate and read, what has struck me most is this - it is NOT hard to love. It is not hard to feel love for another person.
I look at my children, and it's an overwhelming thing at times - seeing them grow and being amazed at the people they are becoming, and feeling responsible to help them grow into their strong own selves. What a gift they are. Loving them is easy even though the WORK involved in seeing them to adulthood will not always be fun. (I am actively suppressing the memory of a lap full of cold cereal this past week.)
I see my parents - the love they have for each other, the love they have for their children, grandchildren, and extended family and friends. I know I love them too - and that love has changed over time as I've grown and matured. That love has been a constant of my life - giving me the strength and resilience I didn't know I'd need.
So why do we think it is hard to love? It's an inherent desire of humans to love, and to seek love, and to be loved.
It's hard because we don't always think we are worth loving. Because it is hard to love someone who hurts you without thinking. It is hard to let someone else love you when you feel like the meanest, most awful person on the planet. It is hard to let yourself be vulnerable enough and open enough to be hurt. So we want love, but we don't always want to do the work within ourselves to let love be easy.
We sublimate, pushing that desire for love into things like hobbies, or employment, or food, or sleep, or sex, or drugs. Trying to justify it to ourselves, or make it look good for other people. It is easier to think you are doing something that will make it easier for someone to love you because you're good at work, or good at sewing, or you work out everyday.
Love is not hard. Letting people love you for your true self is what is hard - because it demands that you be your true self. None of this is new thought. Other people have said it more eloquently. It's just wisdom that I am learning slowly to get better at being my true self.
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