I had a resolution in this New Year to go to bed earlier. Day 1 and it was midnight and I was still awake. The failure chased me around all day, and frankly didn't motivate me much the next night (afterall, I have things to do!).
I realized that resolutions are bound to fail - because when the goal is to "do" something, inevitably there will be days when I don't do that thing at all.
So instead of resolutions, I'm focusing on dreams. Heart's desires. And every day asking myself, hopefully in a non-judgemental way, is this helping me reach my heart's desire?
Many of you have heard my praise of a book that my friend Keiko sent me last year, but that took me many months before I could even open it. Heart's Desire by Sonia Choquette. I love her story of how her heart's desire was to write a book, but she just couldn't get started. Instead, her immediate heart's desire was to get her daughter to sleep through the night.
So instead of just resolving to go to bed earlier - my heart's desire is to have more energy, so that I can be more present with the people around me, and have the energy to accomplish my other heart's desires!
Some days (hopefully most days) that will mean going to bed early. Other days (hopefully many days) it will mean nourishing my body with food that energizes me, and paying attention to what I've eaten when I feel depleted. And many days it will mean being deliberate about getting the exercise my body and spirit crave.
Thursday, January 3, 2013
Monday, December 31, 2012
A bit lonely on New Year's
Today I was feeling grumpy all day. In the morning because my stomach hurt and I didn't seem to be well-nourished, and then later, just tired and all-around grumpy.
And then it hit me. I'm feeling lonely.
I have a great husband who is cooking one of my favorite dinners (stuffed shrimps), two amazing boys who give me spontaneous hugs even when I grump on them (if that's not grace, don't know what is!) and I'm feeling lonely.
So I called a good friend. Then I called another. Then I texted one. Then I left another message.
My friend Megan said it best "Every year, New Year's sneaks up on me." Christmas is full of anticipation and planning, and then New Year's arrives for me, with no plans in place.
I'm feeling better now. I connected with a couple of friends. Snuggled with my boy on the couch, and chatted with my husband. We'll be asleep before midnight most likely.
And next year? I'll figure out some ritual to end the year. Keiko suggested burning paper. Love it.
I've got lots to catch up my readers on this coming year - owl autopsy results, plans and dream manifestation.
Wherever I am tonight, it's okay to feel what I am feeling.
And then it hit me. I'm feeling lonely.
I have a great husband who is cooking one of my favorite dinners (stuffed shrimps), two amazing boys who give me spontaneous hugs even when I grump on them (if that's not grace, don't know what is!) and I'm feeling lonely.
So I called a good friend. Then I called another. Then I texted one. Then I left another message.
My friend Megan said it best "Every year, New Year's sneaks up on me." Christmas is full of anticipation and planning, and then New Year's arrives for me, with no plans in place.
I'm feeling better now. I connected with a couple of friends. Snuggled with my boy on the couch, and chatted with my husband. We'll be asleep before midnight most likely.
And next year? I'll figure out some ritual to end the year. Keiko suggested burning paper. Love it.
I've got lots to catch up my readers on this coming year - owl autopsy results, plans and dream manifestation.
Wherever I am tonight, it's okay to feel what I am feeling.
Saturday, December 22, 2012
Receiving the Gift
A few days ago a sweet friend gave me a gift of a hand-baked loaf of sweet bread. Oh no, I thought inside. This isn't really for me. After all, I can't eat wheat. I haven't for years. Better to stop this and have her give it to someone who would enjoy eating it. And then I stopped my thoughts in their tracks. No. Receive the gift. Just receive it. Receive the spirit of love, receive the intent and the care. Just receive.
I have a lot of friends struggling right now with what to do around Christmas. They celebrate it - the presents, the anticipation of Santa, the tree - but feel a bit awkward about not really connecting with the Jesus part. They've confided in me that they are occasional church go-ers, or feel a bit hypocritical doing the Christmas thing without the baby Jesus.
I'm always surprised how people think that they've gotta believe before they step into a church. As if the faith comes first (it never does!) or that once you're inside the church doors everyone else is full of certainty (they aren't). Or even, that if you're pretty sure this isn't your thing, that there isn't some piece of goodness to behold.
I always think about my experiments with yoga like my experiments with faith. One class I could barely keep up as the teacher moved through countless poses. One style was way too hot. One teacher led a class so relaxing I kept falling asleep. But I didn't give up on yoga. In some cases, I knew I had to try a different style. And mostly I just needed to keep coming back. But in every case, I was a bit more flexible afterwards.
Christmas is that moment of grace. Yes, it's about Jesus. But even if you're not there yet (or ever) it's about light. And however you celebrate it, there's a gift of grace to receive. An unexpected connection with the divine that pursues us in spite of ourselves.
Today I was reminded of the magic that's afoot right now. I was hiking in the canyon with my brother-in-law and son, and we saw a red-tailed hawk sitting on a low bush just off the trail. It was only five feet away, but we could have easily passed it since it was so camouflaged. Ten minutes later we saw a coyote (which I haven't seen for months in the canyon) and then a second hawk, perched on a fence just steps from us. The hike ended with a downpour (which we waited out in Safeway) and one of the most fantastic double rainbows I've ever seen.
Sometimes I feel like God whispers and I just have to stop and pay attention. Today I felt like God was singly as loudly as the first graders in the Winter Show.
Receive the gift.
I have a lot of friends struggling right now with what to do around Christmas. They celebrate it - the presents, the anticipation of Santa, the tree - but feel a bit awkward about not really connecting with the Jesus part. They've confided in me that they are occasional church go-ers, or feel a bit hypocritical doing the Christmas thing without the baby Jesus.
I'm always surprised how people think that they've gotta believe before they step into a church. As if the faith comes first (it never does!) or that once you're inside the church doors everyone else is full of certainty (they aren't). Or even, that if you're pretty sure this isn't your thing, that there isn't some piece of goodness to behold.
I always think about my experiments with yoga like my experiments with faith. One class I could barely keep up as the teacher moved through countless poses. One style was way too hot. One teacher led a class so relaxing I kept falling asleep. But I didn't give up on yoga. In some cases, I knew I had to try a different style. And mostly I just needed to keep coming back. But in every case, I was a bit more flexible afterwards.
Christmas is that moment of grace. Yes, it's about Jesus. But even if you're not there yet (or ever) it's about light. And however you celebrate it, there's a gift of grace to receive. An unexpected connection with the divine that pursues us in spite of ourselves.
Today I was reminded of the magic that's afoot right now. I was hiking in the canyon with my brother-in-law and son, and we saw a red-tailed hawk sitting on a low bush just off the trail. It was only five feet away, but we could have easily passed it since it was so camouflaged. Ten minutes later we saw a coyote (which I haven't seen for months in the canyon) and then a second hawk, perched on a fence just steps from us. The hike ended with a downpour (which we waited out in Safeway) and one of the most fantastic double rainbows I've ever seen.
Sometimes I feel like God whispers and I just have to stop and pay attention. Today I felt like God was singly as loudly as the first graders in the Winter Show.
Receive the gift.
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Putting Others in a Box
My oldest son desperately wanted pink rain pants.
Hmm, I thought. I let him wear a pink dress-up skirt when he was three, but now he's in first grade. As much as he thinks he wants pink pants - he'll walk into school one day, someone will make fun of him, and he'll never wear the pants again. So I decided that I'd get him the black ones, and tell him the pink ones were out of stock.
Needless to say, my guilt started running amok.
And when the pants arrived, my 6-year-old demanded, where are my pink pants?
So we negotiated the return of the black pants and amazingly enough he waited patiently for the pink ones to arrive in the mail. I waited with a bit of guarded fear as he showed his friend that came over his pink pants, but I shouldn't have worried. He gets to have his own journey in these matters.
At the same time, I ordered ten pairs of new pants for my youngest son -- who seems to go through multiple costume changes each day, and has an affinity for shorts. So with winter upon us, boxes of 4T pants arrived each day in the mail. He tried them on, and they fell down to his knees. Alex is 4 1/2, but he doesn't wear size 4 pants.
Alex's size has always been a sensitive issue for me. At one point he was negative ten percentile in weight, and falling fast, though he ate just as much as anyone in the family. We changed his diet and he started growing rapidly, but lately he might be lagging again. I worry that I haven't been vigilent enough of those foods that disrupt and irriate his body, and mostly I just want him to thrive. And my beautiful, energetic son wears size 3 pants.
I know that I often put people in boxes, especially the ones I love. I try desperately to cram them into the space that I think they will be most comfortable, or the place I want them to be. Or I'll put a negative label on them - they are "messy" or can't pay attention.
I think I put God in a box sometimes too. "I'm not ready for Christmas yet, God - I need more time to get ready!" or people will put me in a box if they know I am a Christian.
"Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me. In my father's house there are many dwelling places." John 14: 1-2
God is small and big, pink and black, male and female. God is all of these things and more. And more than I could possibly understand most days, which depending on the day, makes me want to shout out in worship, or weep with the enormity of it all. What boxes has God been put in by others in your life? What does opening God up for you look like?
Hmm, I thought. I let him wear a pink dress-up skirt when he was three, but now he's in first grade. As much as he thinks he wants pink pants - he'll walk into school one day, someone will make fun of him, and he'll never wear the pants again. So I decided that I'd get him the black ones, and tell him the pink ones were out of stock.
Needless to say, my guilt started running amok.
And when the pants arrived, my 6-year-old demanded, where are my pink pants?
So we negotiated the return of the black pants and amazingly enough he waited patiently for the pink ones to arrive in the mail. I waited with a bit of guarded fear as he showed his friend that came over his pink pants, but I shouldn't have worried. He gets to have his own journey in these matters.
At the same time, I ordered ten pairs of new pants for my youngest son -- who seems to go through multiple costume changes each day, and has an affinity for shorts. So with winter upon us, boxes of 4T pants arrived each day in the mail. He tried them on, and they fell down to his knees. Alex is 4 1/2, but he doesn't wear size 4 pants.
Alex's size has always been a sensitive issue for me. At one point he was negative ten percentile in weight, and falling fast, though he ate just as much as anyone in the family. We changed his diet and he started growing rapidly, but lately he might be lagging again. I worry that I haven't been vigilent enough of those foods that disrupt and irriate his body, and mostly I just want him to thrive. And my beautiful, energetic son wears size 3 pants.
I know that I often put people in boxes, especially the ones I love. I try desperately to cram them into the space that I think they will be most comfortable, or the place I want them to be. Or I'll put a negative label on them - they are "messy" or can't pay attention.
I think I put God in a box sometimes too. "I'm not ready for Christmas yet, God - I need more time to get ready!" or people will put me in a box if they know I am a Christian.
"Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me. In my father's house there are many dwelling places." John 14: 1-2
God is small and big, pink and black, male and female. God is all of these things and more. And more than I could possibly understand most days, which depending on the day, makes me want to shout out in worship, or weep with the enormity of it all. What boxes has God been put in by others in your life? What does opening God up for you look like?
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
An Attitude of Gratitude
I haven't written much this week, but I've still been trying to be deliberate about gratitude out in the world.
I sent 20 overdue thank you notes to the people and businesses who donated to Glenridge's auction (thank you donors!).
I sent some notes and emails to folks who have been key connectors for me - the people who have taken the time to introduce me to the people they know - and that's how I got my new job.
I sent some emails to people who I had been thinking about for years, grateful for the encouragement they've given me in my life, and in the way of God's work, they arrived at the right time, including one note after the death of her mother.
And in the midst of this, I felt stifled on this blog!
The burden of writing each night on gratefulness seemed too much - when my mind was racing with all the other things I wanted to write about. And so, I haven't written at all.
It was a good reminder that anytime anything good becomes too dogmatic - it can lose its pure inspiration and become something we just do to go through the motions.
"For I desire steadfast love and not sacrifice, the knowledge of God rather than burnt offerings." (Hosea 7:6)
That said, habits are good things. Waking up in the morning and saying a quick prayer. Passing a candle at dinner and sharing a moment of gratitude. And a new one I learned when Keiko forwarded me a podcast from The Accidental Creative: spending the last ten minutes of a workday circling back to thank people, and reconnect.
Cultivating an attitude of gratitude is an amazing, life-changing thing. And I've realized that one of my gifts is encouragement - I have been truly amazed this month at how powerful an influence my little words have made in the lives of others.
And so I will continue to be grateful. And in the midst of this I will begin to follow the inspiration within to write about those topics that come upon me in the moment, and reach out to people as they come upon my heart. For I desire steadfast love not sacrifice...
And one last gratitude --- for my car, so I could whisk my youngest to the ER tonight for three more stitches.
I sent 20 overdue thank you notes to the people and businesses who donated to Glenridge's auction (thank you donors!).
I sent some notes and emails to folks who have been key connectors for me - the people who have taken the time to introduce me to the people they know - and that's how I got my new job.
I sent some emails to people who I had been thinking about for years, grateful for the encouragement they've given me in my life, and in the way of God's work, they arrived at the right time, including one note after the death of her mother.
And in the midst of this, I felt stifled on this blog!
The burden of writing each night on gratefulness seemed too much - when my mind was racing with all the other things I wanted to write about. And so, I haven't written at all.
It was a good reminder that anytime anything good becomes too dogmatic - it can lose its pure inspiration and become something we just do to go through the motions.
"For I desire steadfast love and not sacrifice, the knowledge of God rather than burnt offerings." (Hosea 7:6)
That said, habits are good things. Waking up in the morning and saying a quick prayer. Passing a candle at dinner and sharing a moment of gratitude. And a new one I learned when Keiko forwarded me a podcast from The Accidental Creative: spending the last ten minutes of a workday circling back to thank people, and reconnect.
Cultivating an attitude of gratitude is an amazing, life-changing thing. And I've realized that one of my gifts is encouragement - I have been truly amazed this month at how powerful an influence my little words have made in the lives of others.
And so I will continue to be grateful. And in the midst of this I will begin to follow the inspiration within to write about those topics that come upon me in the moment, and reach out to people as they come upon my heart. For I desire steadfast love not sacrifice...
And one last gratitude --- for my car, so I could whisk my youngest to the ER tonight for three more stitches.
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Grateful for Diane
In this month of gratitude, I am remembering a few people that have come along at the right time - to provide the encouragement and support I needed - including to shift me in a different direction.
Today I am thinking about "Teacher Diane" a City College teacher who taught a free infant/child development class at the local rec center. Each week she'd print out a helpful article that was great for dealing with sibling rivalry, or thinking big picture about the kind of parent I wanted to be. Mostly though she was just plain encouraging - in a time when I was sleep deprived, unsure of myself as a parent, and struggling to find the joy in the everyday life with two kids under three. Ultimately she led me to gain confidence in myself as a parent, and when the time came, encouraged us to explore co-op preschools - a journey that has changed the course of our family's trajectory - for the better.
Thank you Teacher Diane!
Who in your life has helped shape and encourage you? If they are still alive, can you call them or send them a note?
Today I am thinking about "Teacher Diane" a City College teacher who taught a free infant/child development class at the local rec center. Each week she'd print out a helpful article that was great for dealing with sibling rivalry, or thinking big picture about the kind of parent I wanted to be. Mostly though she was just plain encouraging - in a time when I was sleep deprived, unsure of myself as a parent, and struggling to find the joy in the everyday life with two kids under three. Ultimately she led me to gain confidence in myself as a parent, and when the time came, encouraged us to explore co-op preschools - a journey that has changed the course of our family's trajectory - for the better.
Thank you Teacher Diane!
Who in your life has helped shape and encourage you? If they are still alive, can you call them or send them a note?
Saturday, November 17, 2012
Grateful for Glenridge
Many of you know that my kids have gone to a co-op preschool. This means that the parents work shifts in the classroom - so on any given day at our school there will be two teachers and between three and five parents working. Then there's *lots* of out-of-school volunteer hours too - a family job (ours is treasurer - Jeff calls it his "other" business that he runs), auction solictations and event, and other tasks throughout the year.
It's a lot of work. And when I was first looking for preschools with Ben, and had a newborn in tow, I just didn't think I could handle it. I applied to Glenridge, but didn't pursue any other co-ops, and ended up for Ben's first year at a school with really committed teachers where I could just drop off and go.
Only it wasn't the right fit. And Ben would lash out with fists flying on his (then) baby brother every day when I would pick him up. It was only during spring break, when I realized I actually did like spending time with my little man, that I knew we needed to make a change.
Since then, Glenridge has been the nexus of our family life. Through the school, we discovered the canyon. And found our new home. Found good friends and community. Found amazing teachers (and other parents) who teach us about our own parenting.
And more than anything, Glenridge has given us this brief window to pause, and treasure the wonder of being four years old in the beauty of a canyon.
Tonight, on our walk:
"This is socktown. This is where Jessie found a sock and it was hanging from that tree, and that's why we call it socktown!" - Alex
It's a lot of work. And when I was first looking for preschools with Ben, and had a newborn in tow, I just didn't think I could handle it. I applied to Glenridge, but didn't pursue any other co-ops, and ended up for Ben's first year at a school with really committed teachers where I could just drop off and go.
Only it wasn't the right fit. And Ben would lash out with fists flying on his (then) baby brother every day when I would pick him up. It was only during spring break, when I realized I actually did like spending time with my little man, that I knew we needed to make a change.
Since then, Glenridge has been the nexus of our family life. Through the school, we discovered the canyon. And found our new home. Found good friends and community. Found amazing teachers (and other parents) who teach us about our own parenting.
And more than anything, Glenridge has given us this brief window to pause, and treasure the wonder of being four years old in the beauty of a canyon.
Tonight, on our walk:
"This is socktown. This is where Jessie found a sock and it was hanging from that tree, and that's why we call it socktown!" - Alex
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