Night Walk

I keep going out for evening walks to wind down and let go of the day, not be present while A does bedtime and tick off the rest of my Fitbit steps for the day. 10,000 is surprisingly hard to hit if you don't go for a hike on long rambling trails in the woods.

The whole neighborhood is quiet and resting after dinnertime. The sky is a glowing sherbet and highlights the silhouettes of palm trees and Victorian houses. There are sometimes people quietly giving the lawn one last drink or solitary dog walkers but most of the walk is a stroll through abandoned streets. All the homes are luminaries with little scenes or television viewers, armchair readers and lemon light through lace curtains. The cherry plums have dropped their sweet fruits all over the sidewalks in some places and they polka-dot the cement with splat marks and pits. The smell of jasmine swirls past me sometimes, and the heavy sweet of datura putting out their evening burst of smell.

The magnolias leaves shine in the streetlights as I walk second half of the walk, towards home. I walk luxuriantly slow crossing streets because there are no cars in any direction, you can see down and down and down the street, intersections melting into themselves at the vanishing point. It could be a fantastic stage for an impromptu dance performance, all those streetlights and the big open stage with the yellow lines shining down the center. When I come home I always remember that I've forgotten my keys and my very logical husband has locked the front door so I have to call to him quietly through the screen of the office window to be let back into my little luminary. Everything feels softer and warmer back home again, all the little things that make up our cozy life: the turquoise tea kettle, our shelves of books, the confetti of Lego on the floor. The boys aren't asleep but they're in their beds and the light is out, and that's good enough for us. Time to return to my mate and my nest and my lists and remind myself to make the bed up tomorrow as I quietly wash up the supper dishes.

Leaning into December

Feeling restful about this season. December is here and we are gearing up for Christmas, winter, cold, internal times. I have good books lined up on my nightstand (parenting, in-law relationships, fantasy stories, travel guides!!!), a good stock of Earl Grey and a long list of small renovation tasks on the house. I'm all for the chilly months. Lets bring it!

Ru is getting to be a smooth reader which is pretty exciting. I sometimes worried it would never happen. Teaching kids to read reminds me so much potty training. Its partly about them and partly about training yourself and it takes so much faith in your kid and eventuality and so much letting go and taking yourself less seriously. Dee is partway through reading instruction and even Nib is beginning. Little steps.

A and I are continuing to work on our marriage in little steps too. Building trust together has been one of our recent big jobs. I highly recommend the eminent John Gottman's book, The Science of Trust.  I am ridiculously grateful for the tips in that book. We got into a real tailspin in our connection and life together. Its amazing how easy it is once you have a few bad patterns, to pattern your way right into completely hopeless and even emotionally dangerous place. Isn't it wonderful though, to know that people change, that we are the masters of our own choices and that we can make what we like of our lives???? I can't tell you how much I adore being a grown-up. Gottman is a great resource....maybe the most helpful information for A, I felt like I could breathe again after I read Brene Brown's, Daring Greatly and it helped me learn to how to be assertive and yet truly kind...both things I desperately needed. If you have a tough or impossible relationship where you feel stuck...keep trying shit.

 Seriously. It's worth it. You don't have to hate your mom or stop speaking to your next door neighbor or give up on your son, relationships are repairable, human connection skills are learnable and you can learn how to be a better you. I feel like an infomercial. Ha! Whatever. Trust is my new favorite. I know how to make it now and earn it and it's like totally fulfilling super-glue. I love it when I learn new things that I never, ever thought I could hack. Hear me roar!!!!

Marriage and parenthood both have made me ugly cry more than anything in my life. Ever. They've been ridiculously hard for me. Seriously, though....they are also the things that have pushed my edge and helped me learn fantastic things and two of the places where I am most proud of myself. The things that are your most painful experiences are the things that can be your best teachers, if you're game. The key is not giving up, looking the things that terrify you in the eye, remembering the things that are working and trying hard to solve the problems...try ardently, unceasingly, and ever hopefully. We are all in this together. Some of us are writhing with agony over the hard stuff that is career, some of us are socially pained by our difficulty in friendships, and some of us are looking like crazy people because we can't figure out how to teach our kids to be gentle. This is real life. (<------ all="" and="" are="" botch-ups="" favorite="" hacking.="" keep="" my="" of="" overcomers.="" p="" saying="" sorry="" us="" we="">

Choose Your Marinade

Its a quiet day full of small things like egg gathering, working on the laundry, helping people sound out words in comic books and expressing awe every time the thunder booms outside the window. I have been to the mechanic to fix the random piece of plastic hanging down under the front end of the car (Zip ties? Alright!), have been to the bookstore to pick up the book I have been pouting about missing with my book club a couple of months ago, so that I have travel reading (The Orphan Train) and have made one last playdate/mama hang-out session appointment so that we leave town with our social tanks all full.

I have been learning in the past few months how important it is to accept your negative emotions but to not live in them. Learning to step outside of how I feel and observe it objectively is a really astoundingly life-giving skill. I'm still not super good at it but its in my toolbox. I love knowing that nothing I feel defines me, that emotions are real and important and yet they pass, that the weight we give to things is the weight they carry, and that I am mistress of my own ship. I can choose how I feel and what I focus on, and I can also solve the problems I feel badly about. Validation + Empowerment + Optimism. 

Any little small-time, rainy day can feel gloomy, closed-in, overwhelming or lacking in life, like a place where problems and hard feelings stew until they are your own private marinade, a flavor you own. Instead, I'm living deep, being brave, feeling peace, slowing down, looking my boys in their twinkling eyes, reading stories, dreaming up some new painting ideas and flipping through travel guides for The West Coast. 

My beehive swarmed which, basically means that the whole flock up and flew away because the queen said to. There's no telling why exactly, maybe they felt cramped, maybe they hatched a new queen and she was a rolling stone, maybe the girls didn't like the new plastic, comb frames I put in before I left for Michigan. This is disappointing, but its also a good reminder that we only give shelter to bees, we don't really "keep" them. They are wild animals and not really controllable in the sense that we normally reserve for livestock. 

The six chickens in the backyard are giving my five eggs a day, and just to keep themselves all in the running, they are rotating which lady hen is taking a rest that day. I feel slightly annoyed but if I step out of entitled ego, I realize that rest is good for bodies, even chicken bodies and I can chuckle imagining a chicken council with the elected madame being given her daily pass in rotation. Maybe they are holding out until I buy the larger coop I am saving towards!

May your day be full of quiet empowerment. May you know the power of validating your own feelings and the strength of stepping outside of them to see gratitude. May your marinade be peace and may humor cover it all. 

I'm off to start packing! 

Prep Week

This is the last week before we head off to the Pacific Northwest for some vacation, some work, some exploring, some reuniting with family and lots of memory making. The last week before travel always means lots to do but I also realize that minimalism has a spot in the world of packing and prepping. Laundry needs doing for instance but organizing all our clothes this week as I pack does not need to happen. Packing need to happen but we'll only be bringing a week of clothes. Washers exist. We should make sure that all out hotel reservations are made and written into the schedule but we don't need to freak out about making sure each day is planned to the lapels.  I need to get a couple of basic snacks planned and purchased and prepped for the flight but I don't need to worry about ordering groceries for when we return home yet...that can wait and happen some slow morning in Seattle. 

Trimming the list minimizes the overwhelm of liftoff but it also means there is a little more margin, a little bit of space, a tiny breathing corner. That space is open. It might be when we meet with friends for impromptu play sessions at the park, it might be when I write and paint extra and the boys soak in library books or it might just be time we spend at home not having anywhere to do and not having anything to do. Lolling in the garden, taking naps when we are overtired and fixing things here at home which need our attention all should be allowed to make the list if they clamor.

Been thinking lately about my own philosophy of pushing the edge, living deep and striving that holds hands with my anathema for stress and defeatist talk about being over-busy and living in a time drought. I think its crucial to stay alive, fed, directed, energized and inspired. I also think its important to reject the doctrine of negativity about living a full life. (the belief that we are behind before we even get up in the morning and that there are not enough hours in the day and that we don't have time for the things we wish we could do) I also think its really important to trim the fat in our lives and have boundaries. No, is a good word, we should be masters and mistresses of our own agendas and not live subject to manipulation or guilt in our To Do Lists, we also should learn to strict with ourselves about cutting out things we know we shouldn't be doing. Life is too rich and full to waste on things that are bland and soul killing. As Dr. Suess, The Wise said in one of his books,

"You'll look up and down streets. Look 'em over with care.

About some you will say, "I don't choose to go there."

With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet,

you're too smart to go down any not-so-good street."

So, I'm planning a trip and I'm whipping up the last few things to get done here before we go, and I may feel pushed but I refuse to live in that space, and if you feel like calling, ring me up.

Oregon hasn't seen nothin' yet!  

Zero Insanity For Lent

There is corned beef slowly simmering on the stove although I put it in late enough that I might not actually get to serve it tonight. I feel a sludge of would-be guilt trying to rise up in the back of my throat. I want to be a good mommy. I also almost ran out madly to the store to buy cabbage and potatoes and whatever else seemed important (leeks?) for having a truly Irish St. Patrick's Day dinner.

And then I realized that was insane.

I have made a pact with myself and with God for Lent. No ridiculous woman-pressure insanity.

There are no awards for "perfect" moms who serve all the most Irish foods on St. Patrick's Day and nobody even cares. The dinner doesn't taste better. The boys aren't happier. I am not more organized or more peaceful or more mature or any of the other feelings I am actually trying to cultivate in myself. Its ridiculous. We can see how the corned beef comes out and if it still isn't cooked enough we'll have it for breakfast. We can eat Polish Sausage out of the freezer and it will be quick and all the boys will love it (its one of their favorites). I have a soda bread that I bought that I can serve with extra butter. We can eat carrots (so Irish!) and we'll be fine. We don't need to spend more money on buying last minute festive foods. We don't need to spend more gas on running madly to the store at 6 PM. We don't need to spend our energy or harvest a big crop of stress (mommy yelling at the kids and boys all fussing as I pack them into and then haul them back out the car fro my manic trip to the store) all for the sake of a "festive meal." We can eat broccoli because its green and read the real story of St. Patrick and recite his breastplate prayer that the boys and I are working on memorizing.

I can cut myself free from the out of control madness. I don't need to act like a loony just because I am a woman and I feel pressure to be homemakey and clever and warm and creative. I can be all those things without being insane. I can do all those things while saving money. I can do all of them in smaller, low stress ways. I also don't have to manifest all of those things TODAY for St. Patrick's Day or risk losing my badge. There are no prizes for most harried mom, most overextended woman, most ridiculous self-deception.

There is personal peace.
There is a real legacy and a real man to celebrate in simple ways.
There is home and us and just having a meal at the end of the day.
There is a limit to how much we need fancy and celebration.

I can cut myself free and so can you.  This is my Lenten gift to myself and my family and God. Maybe by sharing it, its my gift to you.

Poetry Friday: Turtle Medicine

Happy Poetry Friday! We made it through the one last full week of winter. That is worth celebrating! Lets have a poem for dessert since we made it, shall we?

On vacation I bought myself a small carved turtle figure, a personal reminder of the life choices I was making and the lessons I keep being reminded of right now.

In Native American teaching, animals can be instructors and messengers sent to teach us things for a while or coming alongside us as tangible reminders of our identity and role in life. I have been learning turtle lessons for a while now and feel like God sends me turtle encounters as gentle nudges of His Presence and my own strengths and callings.

So today, a little turtle poetry...

Turtle Medicine
I am a turtle woman.
Placid rover, called to grounding
Needing slower paced out stalking
Hearer of the ancient wisdom
Trees and rocks and river talking
Drawn by God through paths of effort
Dredging through the channel blocking
Peace within, a well of comfort
Holy salve where fear is knocking
Long-lived being made for always
Eternal creature never stopping
Bearer of the world around me
Pillar-legged never balking
Wearer of my home and haven
Belonging present at each docking
Tortoise, Hawksbill, Slider, Terrapin
Loggerhead, Box and Painted teachers.
God's cold-blooded, scaly speakers
I am turtle woman listening.

You can click through and read more of my poems where I am slowly collecting them, on my Original Verse page. 

Tune in for the rest of this week's participants and see what other poems are out, waiting to speak to you. Our esteemed host for the collection this time around is Kara Newhouse, over at her blog Rogue Anthropologist. I always think a nice dose of poetry browsing is a fantastic way to celebrate a slower weekend morning. May you enjoy the same....

Double Peace

Am back to the drawing board, looking for ways to find the margin and buffer I need to lubricate my life. I have been trying to get up early in the morning and find a little private space before the family gets up. But after a long time battling the urge I am finally admitting that I kind of need space at each end of the day. Last night I had a yoga class and came home after a wonderful meditation session, my spirit warm to touch and went right to bed like a good girl.

 And then I got back out of bed.

And came downstairs.

I wasn't up for long but I needed to be alone. I needed to hear the crickets out the window, to swish the broom alone by myself, to see the cleared and wiped down table gleam in the moonlight and to hear the tiny squeaking conversations of the guinea pigs in the other room and the drip of the tabletop fountain without the sound of any human voice, even to just lie on the floor on my back and listen to the hum of the house itself and feel the boards cool under my hands.

I'm not sure how that works out...the space at both ends of the day thing but I think I'm gonna try to find a way. I love the chance to prepare for a day alone but it doesn't replace my almost desperate urge to recover from a day that just pounded me or even jostled me about in a friendly sort of way. I love the chance to feel myself, to see peaceful emptiness and the recover a little before being asked to rest. I hate lying in bed next to A while he drifts off promptly when there is a sink full of dirty dishes downstairs and I know full well that the potty chair didn't get emptied out. This is about completing work and making sure my slate is wiped clean but its also about psychological recovery and mental space and letting my inner self come creeping out and go pirouetting around in the moonlit rooms when everyone else is asleep. 

I think part of the problem is that by morning Pom has almost invariably ended up in our bed and when I try to sneak out of bed in the morning I often end up taking him with me because otherwise he wakes up the whole household wailing for me. Good to be wanted but...yeah. I do miss my candle-lit reading hour, just me alone curled up on the couch while the sun rises. Nothing like slightly invaded morning time to make you admit your love of private nights after everyone else is in bed. So yeah. Not sure how this will work out. Still need to experiment and think about it...maybe brainstorm with A a bit and try a couple of incarnations. I am certain peace is a worth a little effort and creativity.

“We shall find peace. We shall hear angels, we shall see the sky sparkling with diamonds.”
― Anton Chekhov

Zen Quilting

Life is calming down around here. We're back to trying to follow a housekeeping routine, catching up on the dishes and the laundry are a daunting task but I am starting to believe it might happen soon. I can at least find clothes in the drawers again.

 We've been doing lots of slowing down though...cancelling things, playing outdoors, reading together and naps, naps, naps. I've been working on a compilation of data about how to increase the strength of the immune system, since we've all been clearly a bit low and susceptible.

 I got the urge to mend our big master bed quilt the other day, there were flaps open on several of the patches after a lot of use and love over the last decade. Once I sat down in the sunshine with a needle in my hand, I couldn't stop.

 I did the utilitarian mending and then after all the holes were closed I just kept going. Its a block quilt with no real top stitching anywhere and so I just did some random top stitching, following my inner creative urges. It was so cozy there in the sun, with my needle, and the little stitch tracks going in and out and in and out....

 One of the most incidentally meditational things that has happened to me in a long time. I could be  hand quilter for hire. Any brilliant quilters out there who love the piecing and need a slightly obsessive, tiny bit harried housewife to sit glaze-eyed for hours pleasantly stitching designs over the patchwork? I am your woman! Please get in touch directly.