Gift

We celebrated Christmas again today in order to open our presents to one another and the gifts sent by Andy's family. As is often the case, my husband created an amazingly original, thoughtful, and creative gift for me that was just stunning in its concept and execution.

It really blew me away, and I think it's the most incredible thing he's ever done for me - which is saying quite a lot because this guy has really put together some insanely extraordinary presents over the years. I mean, really.

He took all of my poems from this blog, along with a few key posts, and created a book on CafePress, complete with cover art, chapter headings, and a foreword written by him that is sweet, inspirational, and loving.

It's really stunning, and actually a very cool little book. I may add more poems once I've reached my 1-year mark for this blog (at which time I may retire it and move on to something else), or perhaps it will remain a gift only I see... something to provide encouragement, appreciation, and hope.

Return

We made it home safe and sound, for which I am incredibly grateful. I am sick to the point of losing my voice now, but overall it was a very successful travel day. Ari was amazing on both airplane rides, and the house was exactly as we had left it - more or less. (We lost power one day while we were away, so that changed things a bit!)

Simon was excited and gleeful to see us, and Andy and I are just going to try and relax and veg out on the couch tonight as we attempt to kick these nasty colds and get back into the groove of our daily grinds.

We were all sad to leave NC; but I am very happy to be home as well.

Departure Haiku (because I am still sick as a dog... or at least an ill-tempered cat)

Eight days in NC
(wonderful Christmas visit);
leaving is so sad.

Uuuuuunnnnnnnnggggggghhhhhh.

The Zen temple my husband used to attend emphasizes the importance, during their retreats and training, of eating only until one is full. It's amazing how little food the body actually needs in order to accomplish this, and it is something I struggle with all the time. Which seems equally silly and sad in this moment.

So here I sit, belly over-full, feeling yucky and worrying about what caloric impact it will have upon my mid-section... and what is oh-so-frustrating is that even if I missed the initial "you're full now" signpost, I definitely got the next few hints—and I ignored them.

This is something I want to work on and get better about; a mindfulness exercise that can coincide with resolutions and new starts and whatnot.

It's the first two nuggets of wisdom from Michael Pollan's latest book:

Eat food.
Not too much.

That should not be too hard, right?

Obscure Beauty

I heard on the radio yesterday Eartha Kitt had died. As is so often the case with celebrities, there were lots of stories, commentaries, editorial notes, etc. about her life and the many things that made her unique... one might even say great.

It made me think about this love affair we seem to have with the famous in American culture. We adore, pedestal-ize, twitter over, and eventually eulogize those who have reached stardom with a sort of myopic, laserbeam focus - forgetting or often not even noticing the many acts of courage, kindess, and generosity going on around us all the time.

It was one of the reasons I loved the CNN Heroes concept so much... except that, ironically, the very act of recognizing those heroes on such a grand and public scope - even ending with an awards ceremony and the "top hero" of the bunch (who very humbly suggested those in the audience raise/donate the same amount of her award for every other person nominated).

Maybe there is no middle ground between obscurity and celebrity. Although - I have seen it from time to time... the celebration and mourning of an ordinary life that managed to touch thousands of people without every garnering what any of us would consider extraordinary praise or public notice.

I've been thinking about it a lot not only because of my own internal struggle with recognition and obsurity, but also from the standpoint of school counseling and character education or classroom guidance. How do we teach good character to our youth? How do we model it? How do we encourage it?

I tend to think it aligns with both the Unitarian Universalist and Buddhist approaches, which differ slightly but have, fundamentally, the same end. You do what is right because it is right. UUs support action tied to a fundamental creed - a personal and collective promise - based upon the concepts of social connection, interpersonal equilibrium, and humanitarian responsibility. Similarly, the Buddhist approach also seems to be one of action, but perhaps one that is also tied into spiritual harmony and personal enlightenment (which in turn leads to greater compassion and ability to help others).

In either case, the idea is not to seek accolades, recognition, or praise for one's work. To commit random acts of kindness that are unsung expressions of love.

I like what Abraham Lincoln said on the subject (which sounds a bit like a Zen koan):

"Character is like a tree and reputation like its shadow.

The shadow is what we think of it; the tree is the real thing."

So how do we celebrate our ordinary heroes without making right action heroic? How do we encourage responsibility and compassion while underscoring such things should be the norm, rather than the exception?

Perhaps the first step is simply opening our experience to include the acts of generosity, compassion, and bravery taking place in our own lives. To notice our local and personal heroes and to see if we might be able to do the same for someone else - even if, and perhaps especially if, no one will ever know.

We were born to unite with our fellow men, and to join in community with the human race. (Cicero)

Andy and I checked out a neighborhood today that, I think, has completely changed our conceptualization of how we wish to live. Rather, it was sort of like we had this vague idea of what we wanted and happened upon an area today that felt like an epiphanic ah ha moment, complete with big smiles and a happy sigh.

Arcadia is a co-housing community not too far from where my parents live. It's been around for a while and has this amazing, settled, lived-in feel you don't often find in this area. It is quirky and artistic and beautiful and so beautifully planned and well laid out.

Sort of like this lovely combination of a European-style village coupled with a very traditional sense of community living, with a little bit of independent and creative vision thrown into the mix to create an atmosphere unique and dotted with little gems. Very, very cool.

Add into that an eco-conscious and earth-friendly design, true adherence to green building standards and philosophy, and a sense of collective responsibility and action... and you get this lovely little neighborhood with a walking path and no thru-ways for cars that seemed to help gel in our minds something we knew we were looking for but couldn't quite articulate.

A Christmas Blessing

May you and your family enjoy peace and happiness.
May you discover new joys and put to rest past sorrows.
May your heart swell with compassion.
May your suffering lessen.
May your passions find voice and your hopes become realities.

The Night Before Christmas, Soapboxes Were Hung...

I heard a report on BBC News this morning about the protests in Egypt. From what I understood, it is a labor dispute - or rather, a very large protest in opposition to government attempts to subvert and/or ban any type of collective labor movement or workers' unions or formal protest of the government en masse.

One man apparently set himself alight in defiance of a fine received, which is hard to reconcile, but seems to suggest an extreme level of desperation, hopelessness, and/or rage he must have been feeling.

It made me think about the current disputes going on here in the U.S. about the big three auto industries and whether a government bailout is feasible or necessary. I keep hearing arguments against a bailout and in favor of declaration of bankruptcy based on the premise that the labor unions are the reason these companies are failing to keep up in the world economy.

I tend to believe it is somewhat ridiculous to suggest organizations in place to protect workers' rights should somehow be circumvented by using paperwork and economic manipulation to ensure the very rules and regulations fought for by these unions should be disregarded so that these companies can survive.

Certainly, seeing thousands laid off due to the collapse or dissolution of Ford, Chevrolet, or GMC would be terrible. But why is it any better to say the companies can be allowed to continue on by ignoring all contracting previously put in place (paying workers less, requiring more hours, cutting hours, etc.)? Surely there is a better way.

It is a great thing that we have organizations that work on behalf of laborers. A great thing to have unions, workers' rights, workman's comp, etc. And even though the situation in Egypt looks very different and is much more dangerous right now, there is a brotherhood and commonality in the fight for equality among all workers - rather than a trickle down hierarchy wherein those in power make poor decisions while still receiving ample compensation... and then look to use a trickle-up approach when things fall apart.

Sorry for the soapbox. I'm just so tired of the displaced values and questionable morality that seems to underpin so much of the world lately. Government, industry, healthcare, etc. We need a shift in priorities and a shift in consciousness that takes so many of our religious lessons to heart and allows us to live a more equitable and ethical existence.

Short and Sweet

We saw WALL*E tonight, by Pixar (and, I suppose, Disney) - which is by far one of my most favorite creative entities in this world. The movie is incredibly sweet, albeit a wee bit predictable and a tiny bit too-political (in a not subtle enough way)... but overall very, very good. I am a tough audience probably.

I wish they had stayed dialogue-free a little longer, as I was so impressed with the choice they made to keep the movie driven by sound and movement in the beginning. I'm also curious what would have happened if humans had never been introduced as characters, and whether WALL*E's sacrifice would have been more impactful if he never came back (but then I guess that would be a tragedy... which does not always a children's movie make).

In another life, I would have moved to California and figuratively prostituted myself to Pixar in order to work there. Anything... swept floors, reception work, admin assist - whatever. Just so I could be a part of their artistic vision and movie magic.

In this life, I will take satisfaction in being a consumer only, and feel joyful there is such good art in the world that never fails to provide catharsis and food for thought.

Mourning

Here's what I loved about Kathy... she had the best, most wonderful laughter you might ever hear. It was infectious and soft with a hint of mischievous, elfin charm behind twinkling eyes and an incredible youth. Her voice was smoky pool hall and precocious child all rolled into one, and her interests and passions ranged so far she could find common ground with anyone she met. Kathy was one of our best history keepers, with a lightning sharp memory and a penchant for good stories. She was grounded like a tree rooted deep into the Earth, and whenever I spent time with her, I was always struck by how calm I felt in her presence. I think she just made me feel safe. Calm, and safe. She gave amazing hugs, and she could charm any child or animal - which I believe is the sign of the very purest kind of soul.

I so wish we had more time with her.

Rediscovering the Joy of Discovery

We went back to the fairgrounds tonight in DuQuoin so Ari could see the light display one more time - and stumbled upon a whole exhibition hall full of Christmas wonder.

Trees, songs, children's areas, toy trains, a child-sized train that Ari rode twice, balloon animals, and lots more. It was fantastic. Our only regret was not having arrived sooner... but the reaction Ari had upon entering that hall was the most joyous and gorgeous thing I have seen this year.

She could simply not contain her glee, and to see someone express such elation so freely is to be made happy onself. It was pretty awesome. I was overcome with a huge sense of pride, joy, love, and wonder at her tonight. A bit more aware of the miraculousness of her being - and thunderstruck by her immense beauty as a person.

The Precipice

If you jump
the world will catch you,
hold you close and
sing so sweetly,
keep you safe, and
tuck you tightly
into timeless,
rocking arms.

If you jump
there will be sorrow
but we know you
will land firmly,
taken somewhere
beyond dreaming
marked in
incremental time.

If you jump
the world will catch you.
Keep your faith
and when you're ready,
take your leap,
and we will
bless your way
until we meet again.

Learning Curve

Today I was reminded all things happen for a reason and that, if you wait long enough or think hard enough on it, eventually nearly all things will reveal some form of larger purpose or lesson that has been provided as a gift or at least a challenge in order to support further growth.

I sometimes forget this, particularly when things don't go as I had planned, anticipated, or expected. I am not so good with change I have not initiated. But if I am to walk my talk, then I must embrace the notion that all things are offered or thrust upon me for a purpose. Nothing is without meaning or at least without opportunity.

I finished my first semester of internship today and was very, very sad to leave. This was in stark contrast to my emotions the first few weeks of being there, when it felt like nothing had gone right and there was no clear reason why the universe had thwarted my well-laid plans and plopped me down somewhere I thought I had no business being.

Of course, the universe knew better... and my process of discovering this led to greater humility, patience, and faith - all of which has helped me grow as a person.

I have noticed, ever since committing to a helping profession, whatever that larger power is that connects all things tends to know who needs matching up and what combinations of people will lead to the greatest potential for evolution, healing, and change. It's a rather phenomenal aspect of this line of work, and one I am continually surprised by in its intricate and purposeful beauty.

So thanks, universe, for knowing better. I'm glad I paid attention and was able to make the most of your gift.

Destination Unknown

Do you ever wish you could fast-forward your life ahead so that you could be past wherever you are at in the present (usually someplace a bit stressful or rampant with unknown if one is thinking this way) and instead be at your arrival point - wherever that might happen to be, which is presumably less stressful and more known which means theoretically, ultimately happier?

Of course, that is silly. As nice as it might be to ponder a jump cut into the future to skip past the less enjoyable parts of life, I am increasingly realizing how important and even essential those in-between parts really are. How those might, in fact, be even more important than the intended and/or hoped-for point of finality.

There is a quote I've heard before, and a quick google search around the web seems to indicate there is no clear author because it's been said by many people in many ways... essentially:

It's not the destination but journey that counts.

I seek to embrace those words and to be more mindful of the good that comes out of each step along the way. To surrender to each moment, to value each step, and to trust there is purpose in the entire trip.

All the things I gone done on my SNOW DAY

Played with Ari
Did some crossword puzzles
Wrapped and organized more gifts
Switched cell phone plans
Went to Petco to look at animals and buy dog treats
Updated cell phones
Got a haircut
Went to a birthday party
Took care of a boo boo and got blood out of a shirt
Caught up a wee bit more on my emails
Talked holiday travel plans with my mother
Relaxed!

Thoughts for a frigid, icy evening.

Sorrows

• Kathy is in hospice.
• Several people died in the ice storms here these last two days. Mostly while driving, due to road conditions.
• Our home's heat retention is terribly poor, and our latest Ameren bill was astoundingly high.

Joys

• Jack is headed home.
• Ari and I had a great day.
• I got to see my friend Becky, albeit very quickly.
• Ari, Andy, and I made sugar cookies tonight and used our new Christmas cookie cutters.
• We have heat; we have power; we are safe.

Day 1 (of 13138)

A few years ago, my friend Rachel was telling me about a woman she knows up in NH who she found rather inspiring. She had designed her own house, published a few books, and was some sort of artist - I want to say weaver, but that could be just what's stuck in my head and in no way accurate.

The important part about this memory - distorted as it may be - was how I felt upon hearing about this person... and the way it resonated in my solar plexus. I wanted to be that brave... that fearless in my artistic and personal pursuits. To possess such confidence and to have faith in my ability to create such things for myself and follow a path that was genuine and fruitful.

I have been writing for as long as I can remember. I think my first book was one I wrote about having my tonsils removed. My mother still has it in a drawer full of special papers and creations by both me and my brother. I've always loved writing, and I've always written in one form or another. But I've never believed strongly enough in my ability to be an author that I just shoved off and did it.

Until today. I had a story pop into my head a few nights ago, a book idea, which is not all that unusual. I have those all the time... usually children's books or young adult fiction. I let them kick around in my head and sometimes write down titles or short little descriptions... but I never commit to the actual writing because I always get worried I will fail when it comes time to send it out and find a publisher.

Today I decided to break that cycle of stagnation. I began writing what will hopefully become my first children's book. I figure, it's in my head and it's the clearest, most marketable idea I've ever had. It just keeps coming to me... pouring forth like a steady trickle and begging to be placed somewhere permanent. So who am I to argue?

I have no idea who will illustrate it. I have no idea how to send the manuscript out, find a publisher, cut a deal, etc. But at least I have gotten to the point of no longer blocking myself from writing it and believing that when it comes time for the next step, I'll figure it out.

So whether this leads to something you can one day buy off the book shelf or not, it still marks a large leap for me and my fear of commitment (and lack of self-confidence). It marks a shift in the way I view myself and the relationship I have to making choices and creating movement in my life.

I've been thinking of Rachel all day... appreciating the moment wherein she told me that story, because it carried forward to today and changed the way I approach my life. It's funny to carry a gift like that around with you and choose to unwrap it several years later, but I've always been a bit pokey about opening up to good things.

Falling Through a News Gap

We had no idea until today that the ice storms reported in New Hampshire had also hit Massachusetts and other states in the New England area. I had only heard a few snippets on NPR this weekend... and even this morning - when the story came on - I listened closely to see if those in MA had been affected, but NH was the only state mentioned and so I thought with relief my friends and family in the Mass. area had missed the devastating storms.

It wasn't until my sister-in-law, Nikki, IM'd Andy today that we learned the extent of the damage and power loss in their area. Luckily, Andy's brother, Ed, was in an area unaffected by power loss, so the whole family packed up and went over there (many others apparently headed to hotels).

Andy's dad stayed in the house to keep watch, and thankfully he remained safe and the house sustained no major damage. So they are now back home with power and heat restored... but still trying to track down other friends in the area and dealing with the aftermath of a statewide natural disaster.

Although the initial numbers of those without heat and power were in the millions, there still thousands without power or heat. President Bush has declared a formal disaster, and help has been arriving from across the country, along with much-needed federal aid.

Our family was incredibly fortunate, but I know many were not. For those families and individuals who suffered major losses or are still struggling to make it through to more a stable situation, I send my prayers and thoughts.

Stay warm, help one another, and be safe.

$#*&$(@*&#(@*#&

So... not only has my computer died to the point of having to ship it back to the manufacturer (which I had to pay for - a thing I find rather irksome), but Andy's computer has now started showing severe signs of oh-no-not-good-at-all-ness as well.

He had to erase and reinstall his hard drive. Mine was sent back with no way of recovering anything on the system. Luckily... I have learned my lesson from the two prior computers that have completely died on me in the last year - and all my worldly electronic possessions are now stored (thankfully) on an external hard drive.

I am therefore typing this on the one working computer we have left, which is the oldest of the bunch and the one we expected to perish at any moment. I hate this keyboard with a passion, but Andy's recovered system now no longer knows it has wireless capacity... and so he is again on hold snaking his way through automated customer support in search of an actual person.

I am angry. I am aware of how silly it is to get angry about something so tiny as this. Yet, if I am going to be honest about where I am... it is angry, frustrated, tired, disappointed with a tinge of "not fair" thrown in for good measure.

Apparently, the problem (according to Andy's last customer service call) is Windows Vista. More specifically... it is the automatic updates scheduled for Windows Vista by Microsoft. They are big no-nos, we have now been told.

Sigh.

In the meantime, much more important things are going on in the world and, even more importantly, in the lives of some of my loved ones. Thus, I will stop prattling on about my information woes and instead go back to praying for health and miracles elsewhere.

Shattering the Myth(s)

I still remember the day I realized, with finality, that Santa Claus wasn't real. I was standing on the back porch area of our house in Burlington, IL. I can still smell the hay-ish smell of the ropey, natural fibered rug/mat my parents had put on the floor back there. The room was essentially a closed-in porch and was always a bit colder than the rest of the house and always on a slope that made you feel off-kilter.

Anyway... there I was, standing around doing... something - and I looked down in the trash and saw the empty packaging for my Snoopy pencil sharpener lying in the trash. The pencil sharpener had been a stocking stuffer... and I was overjoyed and perhaps slightly self-righteously excited to finally have hard evidence there was indeed no such thing as Santa Claus, but rather two parents who were still keeping up the ruse for my younger brother (who still very firmly believed).

I think I confronted my mother, who acted surprised it had taken me so long to figure it out, and I agreed to keep quiet until Brent discovered the truth on his own or started asking questions about the veracity of our Christmas myth.

This story sticks out in my head because I feel it marked a major turning point for my relationship with Christmas. I think some of the nostalgia and fun and giddiness of the season was lost in that moment. The season became about something else, and perhaps also became something that could never quite live up to my childhood adoration and complete immersion in the magicalness of it all.

But it also meant that Christmas became about much more than "presents" and getting what I wanted. I felt greater responsibility for giving as well as receiving, and I felt a sense of power, love, and happiness to be able to be someone else's Santa... to be the one who created magic because I had found something that echoed my sentiments and said something more than ca-ching. Something more akin to, I love you * I know you * I care.

I sort of equate this with the attachments I hold now and the way in which my understanding of the world, my value and beliefs, my conception of truth, etc. are all changing as I continue to grow, evolve, and age each year.

It's interesting to be aware of what we hold onto and what we let go. To look at the lies we tell ourselves because they are easier to handle, and the truths we avoid because they are too painful to embrace.

Not every myth is dangerous - and there is something bittersweet in the loss of blissful ignorance that comes with letting go of some of our personal lore - but ultimately, I think I would rather strive to see things as they are... remembering perception is always a matter of choice and mythology is grounded at least somewhat in truth.

For You

It seems like a lot of people are struggling this week... fighting to stay positive and encouraged despite setbacks they did not foresee. Maybe it's the weather, or some collective karmic sadness, or just bad luck and sad news. So... if that seems to apply to you today, then this one's for you too:

What you are doing
takes bravery.
Following your dreams
requires courage,
strength, and
determination of
intense proportions.

The fact that you
keep fighting,
keep pushing,
keep believing,
keep doing
creates ripples
around you.

I know you might
not feel loved
in this moment.
Maybe you feel
invisible, maybe
you feel attacked,
or maybe you just
feel forsaken... left
alone and looking
for guidance.

But you are
beautiful in your
purpose; you are
true in your striving,
and you are not alone
in this moment.

Try to remember this.
And don't give up.

Down, Down, Down

I think those of us who live in Illinois knew it was just a matter of time before Rod Blagojevich made a big enough mistake to warrant arrest and probable impeachment. Yet, it's still a rather embarassing and disappointing thing to have happen.

I was born in Illinois and have lived here for the majority of my life (with a sizeable chunk spent elsewhere in the middle). I think I've spent more time in this state than any other... and I do consider myself a Midwesterner at heart (with a little bit of farmgirl thrown in for good measure).

I'm not sure what it is about our political system - and especially our governors - that seems to lead to unquestionable corruption. Perhaps the unavoidable ridiculousness of this latest gaffe will spur our civil servants into more ethical and professional behavior in the future. One can only dream, I suppose.

In the meantime, I hope those already struggling to make ends meet and survive the sickly economy are able to do so despite the inevitable fallout in the months to come. With budget cutbacks and an increasingly rocky climate where healthcare is concerned, we may see darker days to come.

Asking

I found out tonight my cousin, Kathy, has been diagnosed with terminal cancer. For some of you, I've already been asking for prayers on behalf of the son of some good friends of ours, and for others... you may not have known about any of it.

I ask for your prayers, thoughts, love, energy or whatever you want to name it on behalf of Kathy, her partner, and her family. I think we are all stunned, and those who are closest to her especially are going to need a lot of strength and calming to get through these next few weeks.

For Kathy, a miracle would be nice. Something that takes all the doctors by surprise. In these situations, that sort of thing would always be wonderful... and maybe the most faithful among us help those things come to pass.

We want her back home where she can see friends and family, and I know everyone wants her to be as comfortable as possible. So forgive the personal request, because I know I've been asking for a lot lately for my loved ones who are struggling... but if you are able, it is always appreciated.

Corps Philosophy

There was a story on NPR today that I think got a bunch of artists around the country all abuzz. Apparently, Obama has moved ahead on his plans to create an arts education initiative modeled after civil service organizations like the Peace Corps and AmeriCorps. A sort of Artist Corps. He's been looking at MusicianCorps, a program created by Kiff Gallagher, as a possible blueprint for a more comprehensive, government-run program.

It would be aimed at bringing professional artists into schools with little to no arts programming in order to provide a way for artists to give back to their communities and for children in our public schools to benefit from receiving arts instruction and being allowed to engage in creative exploration.

A win-win situation if you ask me. As someone who has dabbled in creating programming in similar areas, I think the idea of a national push to place more emphasis on creativity and knowledge of the arts in public schools would be truly phenomenal.

I know culturally, we like to focus on science and math and look at the nation's analytical skills and critical thinking capacity... and yes, there is something inherently creative in those pursuits... but my experience has been that the arts - like no other medium - enables a type of exploration that leads to expanded awareness of self and other, provides a language for communication that reaches across cultural and societal boundaries, and allows young people the opportunity to explore their personal context and narrative in order to reframe their conceptualization of themselves, their spirituality, their future orientation, and much more.

Art is transformative. It is political, social, cultural, and personal. It makes us think, makes us feel, and sometimes even makes us question our connection to the universe and the divine.

The fact that President-Elect Obama and his transition team are kicking around this idea and seriously considering creating a program wherein such learning might again become a part of a child's weekly routine is extremely exciting. A biased perspective, to be sure, but I consider it a heroic and beautiful dream that could forever alter the landscape of the collective consciousness for generations to come.

Winter Wonderment

We saw Santa at the mall today. Ari wanted to go check it out and see if he was "the real Santa."

After one look at his white beard, spectacled face, and comfortable perch atop a shiny, red sleigh... Ari looked at us all wide-eyed and excitedly said, "It is real Santa!"

She talked to him some more (he was nice enough to wish us Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and to wave and say hello multiple times as Ari shyly chatted with him sotto voce), and then we headed to the toy store... during which time she bounced along, occasionally squealing with total star-struck wonderment, "Me see real Santa!" Like she couldn't quite believe her luck.

Andy and I were not sure, prior to this year, how we would handle the whole Santa thing. Do you explain the myth? Do you encourage the make believe? Do you cop to buying the presents? I think we ultimately decided to follow her lead. So... when she said that was real Santa, we smiled happily (drunk with love) and agreed with how amazing it was he had been at our mall—of all places.

How cool it must seem to run into the real Santa on a Sunday afternoon. Sort of like seeing the President-Elect Obama at your grocery store one day or running into Meryl Streep at the Rural King, quietly scanning bird feeders and picking out suet.

Sometimes the most miraculous things about having a child are the simply, daily pleasures she seems to be able to reap from even the simplest of circumstances. Silly, happy gifts that are grabbed up with hungry, open arms and enjoyed thoroughly without worry or attachment or embarassment.

So yeah. That is cool. Santa was at our mall. He said hello and was really nice and friendly. And his suit looked way awesome.

I really love this time of year.

Self-Imposed Pressure of the Parenting Variety

We missed the Lights Fantastic Parade tonight. We had intended to go, because Ari slept through most of it her first Christmas, was too young to go at the time it was held her next Christmas due to bedtime constraints, and would have been at the perfect age for it this year. Her friend was going to be there... and it was written on the calendar as a dedicated, planned event for this weekend.

And then Andy and I just totally spaced on it. I didn't remember until about 6:45pm... which meant it was too late to head over and too close to bedtime as well.

Of course, Ari has no idea we let her down in any way whatsoever. We hadn't really talked it up or said anything about it, and she was perfectly happy to watch The Berenstain Bears nestled in blankets and laps upon the couch... and then head into her nighttime ritual, thinking of what she wants to do tomorrow.

But I am disappointed, and I feel guilty for letting her down. I think I feel such pressure sometimes to be the perfect parent - to offer her all the happiness possible, to make every holiday special, and to find or create events in her life that will become happy memories she'll treasure later.

Silly to put that much pressure on myself and silly to think my idea of perfect might be the same as hers or that I have that much control over her experience and perspective on her life. (Or that there is even such a thing as perfection.) She will make her own meaning, create her own narrative, and enter adulthood with her own concept of her childhood, our parenting, etc.

So... I am trying to let it go. There's always next year (if we're here), and - as Andy said - plenty of more time to provide opportunities for joy.

putting not-so-blatant disregard under a metaphorical microscope

There is something dangerous about an internal disregard for other people. I think lots of people harbor very overt but severely hidden feelings, beliefs, or values that designate certain people as less or other or bad.

Of course, some people wear their "isms" on their sleeves... but what is much more pervasive, tricky, and difficult are those quiet, unspoken thoughts/feelings which are ultimately perceived through microexpressions, actions, tone, or energy. They still convey dislike, distaste, disrespect, etc. - but in a much more subtle and insidious way.

I am increasingly aware of how this type of socially accepted disregard can damage the recipients. To be seen as less in value than another human being, to be written off or ignored or told directly and indirectly you are incapable of achieving, of changing, of being an equal inevitably destroys or at least severely dents the foundations upon which ability and wellbeing exist: self-esteem, self-efficacy, and self-concept.

It is so easy sometimes to rationalize disregard and to lower our expectations of others without apology. Easier to give up or shut down or turn away. But perhaps there is some self-fulfillment to our prophecies... and maybe it is important to acknowledge our part in the cycle that plays out so that we may always strive to respond with increasing compassion, respect, and dignity.

What if we saw each person as an equal? Truly equal to us and deserving of respect and compassion based upon the very simple and basic truth of their humanity. Might our secret fears be eliminated? Might our insecurities become irrelevant?

Perhaps it's something to be mindful of - just to see what effect it might have not only upon those around us, but ourselves as well.

BT Haiku for a Crazy Day

Simon's on the couch...
Asking me to sit and chill.
Why should I refuse?

Little Buddha

Hundreds of eyes
are watching over you
tonight.

Many hearts
praying for your
safe keeping.

I hope to meet
you soon... rosy,
peaceful, and giggling.

You look so familiar;
something about your
eyes and their shining.

May your strength
see you through this
and beyond the pain.

May your scars
become proof of your
courage and power.

May your body embrace
this new opportunity
and leave illness behind.

So much love around you,
and everyone holding
their breath.

In our imaginings,
you are running and
laughing, barefoot and silly.

(Telling the sun
tales of enlightenment
with the smile of a warrior-sage.)

t e e n y. t i n y. Christmas Joy

We decided not to get a Christmas tree this year, opting instead to do some minimal decorating in the living room one night... complete with the Vince Guaraldi Trio and hot chocolate.

Ari was somewhat disappointed, in the end, as evidenced by her heavy sighs and slumped shoulders. I think it just didn't quite live up to the picture she had created in her mind when we said, "Let's put up some Christmas decorations tonight, okay?"

She had seen some a few days prior in the stores and had just gone gaga over them. Something about the shiney, sparkly, gilttery beauty of it all—so strange and twinkly and clearly attached to something different or special that doesn't happen every single day.

So... our little daughter had constructed some scene of merriment and gloriousness in her head, which our tiny little fake 12" tree and lights strung along the windows of one wall just did not equal. Not even close.

Poor little thing. I know how she feels. I think holidays always pose the challenge of not getting too overtaken with our expectations and attachments, lest we miss the beauty of what actually occurs there in front of us.

The happy ending is she now loves the lights, and plugging them in so they can send a soft kind of multicolored glow all over the room makes all three of us simultaneously calm and giddy. Ah, the magic of Christmas decorations. No matter how small.

behind the veil/between attachment

My lovely husband helped point out tonight that I am on the cusp of achieving all I set out to accomplish and had identified as what would make me happy.

And I realized, in one of those quiet kind of ah ha moments that the only thing standing in the way of my happiness is myself... and my attachments and ego, which tends to make things kind of cloudy and uncomfortable.

So silly. I am capable of being so very silly sometimes.

I think this is something I would like to change—this inability to embrace my happiness and to find peace with and accept where I am. What is. Who I am. Who I wish to be.

Loving ourselves can be so tricky sometimes, and yet it seems to be at the very heart of what helps us move forward, evolve, and let go of our cloudiness so we can help others and be truly present in our lives and the lives we encounter around us.

Not that I'm there yet, mind you. But things got a lot clearer tonight... and hopefully it will stick!

Flap, Flap. Beat, Beat.

Our little bird friends are back. Working furiously on nests tucked up in the corners of our front porch... perched carefully on top of pillars around the front of the house.

I assume they must be cardinals, and I have seen at least two families making preparations for winter... going and returning multiple times throughout the day with a strangely hypnotic and comforting rhythm.

Rather than being frustrated or worried about these intended winter sanctuaries, I am rather happy they've decided to return. I always look forward to seeing the little baby birds in the spring... their little scrawny heads wobbily and hungry with eyes shut and beaks wide, innocently open to the world as they wait for mommy to return with food.

I will miss this cycle and proximity to nature and her heartbeat. Perhaps it will simply mean I must look more mindfully from a new location in order to catch these small, daily miracles of life.

(not just) Lip Service

Poor little Simon's lips are scabbing up again. We went through this last year, and the vet really didn't have a good answer. The solution offered at that time was a biopsy of both his mouth and nose (which would have meant taking slices of his face in 3-4 different locations)... just to be told something the vet felt would ultimately be inconclusive.

I ended up thinking it must be a food allergy of some kind. My bet was on wheat, wheat flour, and or wheat gluten. Maybe he's a little Celiac doggy. But it seems to be touch and go, and I've noticed wheat products in some of his regular treats and such, which does not seem to bother him.

Of course, it would be easy enough to ensure he got no human food and closely monitor his diet—if we did not have a two-year old still working on fine motor control skills. Ari's eating is like a crumb shower of forbidden goodies for Simon; and he – no dummy – waits somewhat patiently and expectantly at her feet during every meal for random morsels that sprinkle to the floor with alarming regularity.

So... what to do? Andy said there is a food allergy test they can run at the vet's office in the $150 range, which might give us some more concrete answers as to what causes the outbreaks. Of course, it's an assumption on our part that the skin irritations are allergy-related and not some form of immune deficiency (aka lupis). We really have no way of knowing.

In the meantime, I watch Simon's face closely and try to assess how much pain he is in. I pray every day it will clear up and try to watch Ari (and Simon) like a hawk during mealtimes, swooping in to pick up, sweep up, or otherwise remove potentially dangerous food items like whole wheat spaghetti, banana chocolate chip muffins, or organic cheese puffs.

Poor little Simon. He's such a sweet and special little dog. I hope we can figure this thing out soon.

Black Friday

It was stunning this morning to start our day hearing news that the persons responsible for the attacks in Mumbai had not yet been stopped. The news of such a terrible event on a holiday like Thanksgiving was very sad, and even sadder was the news today of the many lives lost in the last three days.

Then we heard about the two people killed by a gunman in Toys R Us, and the worker trampled to death in Wal-Mart. And I know hundreds of thousands of people die daily and that it's very dangerous to shape one's worldview based upon the inevitably biased reporting of what is determined news by any given media outlet.

But still... it was hard not to think WTF, and I have definitely been struggling to not become completely discouraged and disheartened. Ironically, we watched CNN Heroes: An All-Star Tribute last night. So odd to have two days dichotomously filled with some of the worst and best acts of humanity.

I guess where I have ultimately ended up today is trying to think about my impact on the world and what it means to balance the Christian principal to treat others as I might want to be treated; the Democratic philosophy that we all deserve respect and dignity, which means treating all others as my equal; the Buddhist concept of suffering and what it means to work toward the elimination of suffering in the world--to strive for enlightenment and peace within myself in order to aide the peace of others; and the Unitarian Universalist tradition of social action, human justice, and a creedal foundation of compassion and activity.

Although I believe I have made choices and put forth changes in my life that moves toward the direction of these ideals, I do believe there is still more I can do. And so... today has reminded me of the importance of remaining mindful, while also taking steps to bring thought and word to eventual action.

Gratitude (aka Thanksgiving)

I am thankful for:

• My family and friends, who keep me sane and grounded... and who have come through for me so many times in so many ways I never fail to be astounded by their generosity and love.
• My husband and daughter, who are the hub of my world. They are my glue, my greatness, and my glory.
• My home, my health, and my happiness. I am forever striving to value these things all the time, because I know I am luckier than many and therefore might do more to stop suffering if I were consistently able to see my own bounty.
• My graduate program, professors, peers, colleagues, and mentors—they have enriched my learning experience beyond measure and are an integral part of my development as a counselor and my growth as a human being.
• My students and clients... who unfailingly teach me new things about myself, my work, and the world at large each time we work together.
• My country, which has managed its 44th presidential election and is in the middle of a successful, peaceful, and productive transition amid turmoil and fear. The philosophy and idealism of this nation is one of its most beautiful assets and inspiring qualities.
• The many creative, inspirational, humbling, glorious, sacred, powerful things in this world that can occur on the most minute level imaginable or the largest scale possible. I am grateful for these because it helps me remember my humanity – in both its finite and infinite carnations – and the dizzyingly intricate interconnectedness of everything.

Note for my friend who probably won't see it (but sometimes you just have to write things down)

I am praying for you. I am holding you tight in my heart and attempting to will a happy ending. Or at least a happy continuation of the story.

I pray for your safety in these next few weeks. I pray for your sanity and your rest. I pray you find peace in the midst of chaos and pain. I pray you find moments of joy scattered among the shocking sadness.

And most of all, I pray for your son. For his courage, his happiness, his ability to hold on... and most of all for his health.

We love you.

Ghost in the Machine

Today was a crowded, jumbled day due to a very strange occurence arising out of some uncharacteristically glitchy thinking/planning on my part.

Not only did I schedule a small group session for today – which is a day I am always off from school – but I also made plans with my husband to visit daycares, have lunch and hang out with my friend Becky, and take in the car for an oil change.

Now, maybe the oil change and the daycares could have been coupled together, and the lunch fit in just fine. But there was no way I could be at school and at home - and so I had to apologize profusely to the woman overseeing the small group at school. Luckily, she has an infant, so I think she understands parenting brain farts - or at least the busy-ness that can accompany attempts to work and raise a toddler.

Anyway... I forgot to take the car in—which I did not realize until 5:30pm this evening. And... we only saw one daycare because Ari had a potty accident at the very first one and mommy (aka, me) had very stupidly taken out of all of her emergency clothing thinking she was beyond accidents. Thus, she had no pants, no socks, no shoes, no underwear, etc. to change into. The daycare (which we did not like) let us borrow some pants, and we came home feeling stupid and embarassed (or maybe that was just me).

Lunch worked, and we also got to visit Papa Gallo... and we got our plumber in to almost-finish our downstairs bathroom sink. So not an entirely busted day... but definitely one that left me feeling pretty foolish and also wondering if I might need to make better use of my day-planner/calendar. Sheesh.

Selection, Naturally

I heard a quick snippet on CNN today about a family in Colorado who opened their farm to the public, offering a free pick-your-own day this past weekend. Actually, I think they originally planned just one day, but they had such an overwhelming response, they had to cancel day 2.

On the first day alone, 40,000 people showed up to get free food. The owner of Miller Farms said it indicated how bad the economy is and just how many people are in dire need of food and help right now.

It's not often you hear a story in the news cycle now with a positive ending or happy focus. Ironically, this one floated past my ears just as I was sitting here feeling down. So it was nice to get a gentle little reminder that my life is very blessed, that there are incredible people in this world, that we as humans are capable of community and support, and that there is always something - in fact, many things - to be thankful for depending on the perspective you choose.

Brrrr.

The cold weather always brings such dry skin for me. It is such a small thing, but when my hands start to split and bleed, and my lips feel like they are burning... it does get awfully uncomfortable.

Our winters have been much milder since moving downstate. I still have a severe shock to the system whenever the cold weather truly sets in and winter's icy little fingers start to latch onto my insides every time I go outside... but overall, the lack of copious piles of snow and months on end with below freezing temps and a windchill that will squeeze your head like a vice has been really lovely.

But then fate stepped in and sort of changed everything. Andy got a great job offer back up in Evanston that he simply cannot walk away from. It's an incredible accomplishment and a great opportunity... and so we are now having to seriously contemplate moving back up and settling in the city we left 3 years ago.

I am a great believer in all things happening for a reason; and also have great faith in the idea that there is purpose to all we encounter in life - be it good or bad, easy or difficult, asked-for or shoved upon us.

The conundrum surrounding a move up north is not solely connected to the weather... but that seems to be the most tangible item upon which I can attach my misgivings and worry. Which is probably silly, but is very human.

Of course, there are tons of good things too. And I am not blind to them. I think I just feel overwhelmed at the many practicalities and logistics involved, as well as somewhat panicked by the looming amount of unknown contained in the decision. (I have become much more aware of my dislike of the unknown lately.)

So as the cold weather settles in to squat upon our lives, I cannot help but think about the even greater impact the season will have in a more northerly direction. Ah well. It is, after all, a small little thing to attach myself to... a silly, human, itchy, cracky thing.

The Joy of Roasting

Thanks to my friend, Melinda, Andy and I have been eating more roasted vegetables. We had always toyed with them... but never really committed to the idea of eating so many different kinds of veggies with just a bit of olive oil and salt.

I think what is so nice about it is how simple it tastes. Simple but really powerful - as if you don't really get much more than the actual veggie flavor from whatever you are using, along with a hint of saltiness and the slightly nutty flavor of the olive oil. So delicious.

It has helped me realize there are a lot of vegetables I actually really enjoy the taste of... ones I might have previously struck from my list or decided to ignore. I have rediscovered broccoli, brussel sprouts, cauliflower, zucchini, and all manner of squash.

Tasty!

Triple Haiku for Herman

We found you one day,
brought you home and promised care...
and then we failed you.

What's the lesson here?
Perhaps focus, commitment,
and mindful choosing.

Busy-ness is not
worth losing sight of small joys.
This cost was too great.

Time. Memory. Place.

I heard today Out of Town News in Harvard Square is likely to close soon. As a former Boston resident and previously frequent visitor to the Cambridge area, it is sad, sad news. I used to buy Dunhill cigarettes from them... and later, after returning from England, Camel Mediums - which could not be found in the states anywhere else and were - at the time - the perfect cigarettes.

Sad to say, my experience with the place was more as a smoker than a reader of world news or magazines from far-off lands. But I do remember fondly ogling the Time Out London mags in my final semester at BU... and I used to spend time just looking at the many offerings they had on hand. Wishing I could travel more and feeling briefly re-connected to the less isolated and more allied feeling I had experienced in Europe.

It's been a long time since I've really walked around the Cambridge area, and particularly Harvard Square. It is a place associated with strong memories and a very important time in my life. And, since my husband is a former New Englander as well who grew up just outside of Boston, it also represents the link we never knew we had until we met, approximately 10 years later, in the city of Chicago.

I wish the city would rally and find a way to keep the little brick building with the funkily eclectic and multicultural feel. I can only imagine how many of us there are for whom that place is a touchstone buried deep within memory and personal history, looping through narratives containing that seemingly small detail.

Perhaps it is silly to be so romantically nostalgic about a kiosk at a metropolitan crossroads... but sometimes there are aspects of our self-concepts and traveled journeys tied to place - and when they shift or disappear, we feel it.

Me (and You)

I really love collaborating with people. It kind of hit me today while at my internship site. Which is sort of silly because I had made an artistic career based on collaboration, ensemble work, and collective process... but hey - sometimes I'm a bit slow.

Sometimes what feels so hard is the drive I feel to collaborate in LOTS of different arenas. Books, research, work, scripts, counseling strategies, consultation, parenting, etc. What is lovely is I know lots of talented and truly outstanding people who fill me with excitement and renew my passion. What is difficult is my ever-lovin ability to get tangled up in the many imaginings and become so paralyzed by some search for (or belief) in a "right" path that I end up not actually moving anywhere.

Ah well. I have also realized lately this is an incredible time of growth and learning for me. I am more open to my frailties and aspects of my self that merit work. I also feel I am more aware of my strengths and abilities too... which I think has linked to a longing for purpose and connection to meaning in my life.

And although this seems like a senseless and highly selfish post... I will leave it. Because who knows... maybe it will speak to at least one person - and lately, I've also realized that sometimes the littlest actions we take which only intersect with one life in one moment are just as important and valuable as large, sweeping actions that are seen by many.

Happiness

You were washing dishes...
your back turned, yet
your body still a part of
our random scattering
in the midst of a chaotic kitchen.

She was playing drums and
putting plastic silverware
in no-no places (mommy's glassware)
Caught but smiling and continuing
to move with quick conspicuousness.

We were all dancing to
reggae music pulsing
through our house like
joyous rainbow confetti
falling down in happy swirls.

And I thought:
this is it. This is what
we worked so hard to
achieve. We are here.
In this moment, we are here.

We are happy, and
healthy, and dancing,
and together, and
loving, and silly, and
alert, and wonderful.

That moment of happy—
an explosion in my chest...
wrapped around my finger
like a little humming string,
reminding me to smile and breathe.

Inside Out vs. Outside In

I have been thinking a lot lately about authenticity. What does it mean to be one's authentic self? How do we reconcile the many masks we may wear in a day or (from a less cynical perspective) the many ways in which we change shape based on our circumstances and surroundings. We are all mutable - our different roles sometimes require slightly different aspects of our genuine self.

But what separates authentic behavior from inauthentic? Is it inauthentic if the person being disingenuous does not realize he or she is being false? What it falsity vs. ignorance vs. deception?

This has come up lately for me, as I seek to make my way toward decisions that affect my future plans and career pursuits, as well as my educational track in the next year or two. For some reason, this is a muddy area for me... I feel a mix of ego, ambition, confusion, passion, and a plethora of interests that can sometimes pull me in multiple directions. Add to that the pragmatic concerns arising in having a life bound to two other people who are immensely important to me... and all my values, beliefs, and assumptions and you have quite a tangle some moments.

So lately I have been seeking the authentic inner voice that is Genevra. At least Genevra in this moment. Because, I know I will continue to change - we are not, after all, static. This can be a painful and humbling process. Ego, jealousy, competition, a desire to be loved... these are not necessary pretty things.

Of course, there are positive things too... and the truth—the authentic, genuine, real truth (which is perhaps a paradox already)—probably lies somewhere in the middle. It will be interesting to see where I settle when the balancing point is finally reached.

Resonance, Respect, and the Existence of Greatness

Yesterday, I heard a segment on NPR about Yip Harburg and Jay Gorney's song, "Brother, Can You Spare a Dime?" It was on a series only sporadically run called What Makes It Great, and so the song was discussed by a composer/author/musician in terms of why this song out of so many still carries such a powerful message and remains fixed in our collective awareness as an "anthem" that reverberates forward.

Not only was the analysis fascinating and enlightening, but it also was a great segment that connected the themes of depression-era worry and loss with the current economic anxieties experienced today. Although we're not in the same place we were then, certain themes within the song easily parallel aspects of today's financial mess.

If you have time, listen to the story - if only to hear Daniel Shorr's rendition of the song, which is poignant and simple. And be sure to listen to Yip Harburg's rendition (listed among the variations along the left-hand side), which is strikingly powerful and further aids in understanding the song's origins and emotional message.

Harburg and Gorey underscored the need for social action and justice during the hardships of the Depression. Their hope was to call for greater awareness of the need to help one's fellow man, and the reality of a shared suffering in the aftermath of Americans' industrial, creative, and patriotic expression and movement through the early 1900s.

It reminded me, very strongly, of all the commentary surrounding Obama's supposed "socialist" agenda. I still don't quite understand an ideology that does not protect, encourage, and support every member of society. And it seems some Ameicans seem to truly fear anything that hints of socialism... and yet, why in the world would we not seek to be a nation wherein every individual feels like an equal member?

And so the message in this song... that I have built, I have fought, I have struggled... and now I'm being forgotten - the entreaty for human response and shared responsibility is what echoes forward to me. Perhaps what resonates so strongly is the request for recognition and dignity on a very basic, human level... which we likely all can understand.

SingDanceSpeakSpirit

I heard about an institution in Albuquerque, New Mexico that aims to provide a place for spiritual reflection and connection for non-church-goers. It was founded by a musician who had experienced the sacred through his work with and relationship to classical music.

It's called the Church of Beethoven, and I wish we could go, because I believe art often connects us with the divine, and the idea of local artists using their time and talents to create an experience of worship for other community members is just stunning and lovely. Instead of edu-tainment, it's soul-tainment. Or something like that.

Apparently, the man who began it all, Felix Wurman, hopes other people will eventually begin their own offshoots in other cities across America. I think, if I started one, it would be the Church of Bach... I find him particularly linked to something transcendental and spiritually transportive.

Someday I'd like to do a series of dance pieces set to the Bach cello suites recorded by Yo-Yo Ma back in 1998. It was something I never quite got to for Too Much Light Makes the Baby Go Blind. Perhaps there will be some forum in the future wherein my personal exploration of how that music connects me more firmly to the world might be shared with others looking for a similar union.

A Few Thoughts on Same-Sex Marriage

It's incredibly upsetting to me that Prop 8 passed in California recently. I'm glad gay marriage is now legal in Connecticut, but it seems this issue is the latest in a series of several that seems to divide the country quite sharply.

I don't quite understand how it's not a civil rights issue, as some people suggest, nor do I see how a case could go to the U.S. Supreme Court and possibly not be ruled in favor of gay couples seeking equal rights under the law. But hey - plenty of things have happened in the last 8 years that have left me shaking my head, and we're still working with a court slanted right in a way that often stuns the liberal progressives among us.

In the meantime, I remain so very thrilled for those friends who have managed to legally and formally tie the knot. I wish everyone could, and I wish those unions would be recognized in all states. My hope is, it's just a matter of time. That in 5 to 10 years the prejudice and discrimination that leads to things like "civil unions" and Prop 8 will strike us as so obviously biased and oppressive we will be stunned at our inability to live up to the philosophy of social justice and human advocacy upon which this country was founded.

Such beautiful language and such an important vision. It's worth fighting for.

Detroit Dilemma

Someone on NPR today echoed a sentiment I had expressed to my husband only days ago about the proposed bailout of the auto industry. Essentially, I feel like the issues that led to the current decline in demand for cars made by the companys in question must be addressed before any money is doled out.

Why not insist upon salary caps for top execs, mileage and energy efficiency standards for new models produced, and a timeline for expected growth/increase in sales?

As someone who is completely fed up with seeing flashy commercials touting cars that still only get 33 mph, I really think the opportunity now exists for the industry to remake itself and push into a new phase of creation and development aligned with green expectations and fuel-efficiency necessities based on our stated goal of weaning ourselves off foreign oil and finding new ways to support our energy consumption.

It's difficult, because so many jobs are tied to these decisions... and I would hate to see people laid off due to the poor decisions and bad management of those in top positions. But I do believe some kind of change has to be tied to any kind of financial parachute. Otherwise, we're just forestalling the inevitable collapse that will come from an industry that is out of touch and ineffective in the global market.

Sorry for the soapbox. These bailouts are making me increasingly nervous, and I still keep getting these nagging feelings we are in for even greater challenges and failings in the months to come. Let's hope I'm really, really wrong!

I'm Your Medical Cheerleader

For whatever reason, several of my friends have been experiencing a sense of frustration lately in seeking medical help. I guess it's not that unusual. I've had my share of strange/bad experiences... like the urologist who flaty told me my symptoms could be the early stages of MS, or the many doctors who refused to connect a series of emerging and never-before-experienced health problems with a stint on birth control, or the latest - an eye surgeon who refused to acknowledge the connection between my pregnacy and my retinal detachment—in both eyes (they lasered the left before it fully detached, thank goodness).

Meanwhile, my husband experienced a doctor telling him he did not have epilepsy directly after he experienced a seizure during an EKG, which led to an inaccurate diagnosis of the type of epilepsy he has (grand mal vs. temporal lobe).

A friend of mine had to advocate for her son to get treatment because she knew something was wrong with her son and the doctors just kept acting like she was hysterical or crazy or "overprotective" mom or something. And... another friend of mine just got told today her heart problems were all in her head - related to stress and not something that could be fixed or apparently even discussed.

I guess the big result of all of these experiences, for me, is I have learned the importance and necessity of advocating for myself and speaking up when I feel I'm not being listened to. I look for doctors who take my instincts seriously and don't try to rush me through my medical history or the way I tie certain events together. And, ultimately, if I feel someone is wrong in their diagnosis, I either follow my gut, find a new doctor, or keep speaking up until a greater discourse takes place.

After all, who knows your body better than you? Don't be afraid to advocate!

Veggie-Deal

I was at Schnucks a week or two ago and overheard the woman ahead of me being offered a magazine with holiday recipes. "Ooo," I thought. "I could use one of those."

The cashier did not offer me one, so I asked after it, and she said it would be $0.99 (the other woman got it for free). Not sure of the discrepancy, I quickly decided I still wanted it and just chalked it up to an oh well kind of moment. Nothing worth fretting over.

Tonight I tried one of the recipes in it, and that $0.99 proved well spent. I had been hoping to make it for my two friends named Becky, who Ari distinguishes by calling one Beckby and one Beck-Beck. (What I find so funnily amazing is that, when she first used those names, I knew exactly who she meant for each.)

Unfortunately, our weekend was supremely scattered and a bit stressful, and so I asked Beck-Beck (Beckby had to cancel) if we could reschedule. I felt like a poo, but also knew our evening was bound to be a bit chaotic and it would not really be a good entertaining kind of evening.

So... Beck-Beck (and Beckby) when we are able to dine together... here is what you'll get (at least part of it!):

Maple-Roasted Acorn Squash

2 small to medium acorn squash
sea salt & black pepper (to taste)
4 tsp. butter or margarine
4 Tbsp. maple syrup
4 tsp. brown sugar
rosemary
thyme

• Halve the squash and scoop out the insides. Place into baking dish, rind side down, and add roughly 1/4 inch of water to the dish.
• Into each squash cavity, put 1 tsp. butter, 1 Tbsp. maple syrup, and 1 tsp. brown sugar. Sprinkle the squash with rosemary and thyme (roughly 1/2 tsp. of each for each squash half). You can use fresh or dried... just use your best judgment.

I may try a bit of cinnamon or nutmeg next time to see what that does to the recipe; and I definitely plan to use this as a side for Thanksgiving. I could have even spent $2.50 on this magazine thing and still come out ahead!

Apropos Mantras for Today

Breathe.

Let go.

Ignore your ego.

Self-consciousness serves no one.

Why not notice the joy?

Stop thinking about it and actually do it.

Silly is okay.

Remember to be kind.

How much of the stress if your own doing?

Enjoy each moment.

Everything is going to be okay.

Respond with love.

Expect the best, but don't let those expectations derail you.

The action is the point.

A Sort of Stream

The cold weather today brought freezing rain and a shockingly chill day for so early in the winter season. We've been quite spoiled the last several years down here in southern Illinois; it will be interesting to see what this year brings.

I've been trying to keep my ears pricked for news of Hurricane Paloma (weird name). Thousands were evacuated as it headed toward Cuba, and though damage was sustained, it has not been as great as expected. No deaths or injuries have been reported yet, but it still sounds as if the aftermath from the storm will keep people out of their homes for quite some time.

It's so easy to get caught up in our own change of seasons and lose touch with the happenings in other parts of the world. As our environment shifts, so too does everyone else's... and that may bring joy or sorrow to other places and other people.

My husband, who is an astrologer (among many other things), says there is something big coming in mid-November. While I don't quite invest in astrology to quite the same degree he does, his accuracy in certain matters and my own experience with some aspects of it has led me to remain openly curious and to pay attention when he brings things up.

Whatever coming is big, and for those of us in the U.S., it may be financial in scope (i.e., more bad news on the economy front). For other countries, it may bring different challenges... perhaps these strange and powerful weather cycles will continue.

No matter what may arrive in your neck of the woods, may you be safe and find direction in the storm - be it literal or figurative. The changing of the seasons can bring up many emotions and signify many things (death, life, mortality, transformation, renewal).

In this moment, the impact of the marked transition into a new phase reminds me of the Buddhist koan that also connects back to the paradox of fleeting stability and ever-present chaos. However, I can't find it... so I'll turn instead to Albert Camus, who said roughly the same thing:

You will never be happy if you continue to search for what happiness consists of. You will never live if you are looking for the meaning of life.

Be safe. Remember others. Stay connected.

Such Little Things

There is a leaf
as big as my head
sitting on the coffee table
taken from the ground
on a walk in the sun.

There is a dog
with the snore
of a sailor lying on the couch
and rumbling the room
as he soaks in some love.

There was a show
I happened upon tonight
that made me and Andy
laugh out loud, doubled
over and holding our sides.

Sometimes the miracle
in a day is a small one
nothing major, just life
moving forward one
beautiful step at a time.

Whoosh.

Today we watched some old movies we had made of Ari at various points along her path from birth to present. It's rather stunning to look back on those earlier times and notice all the huge changes she's already undergone.

So many people talk about how quickly the childhood of your offspring flows by. Kind of like how my grandmother always used to tell me how fast life moved as she got older... each year leaving time sped up to the point of no longer even being able to recognize individual days, or months. I always imagined it like being swept up in a wave with the force of a tsunami, depositing you on the opposite shore of a your life a year older and somewhat lost as to how you arrived there.

Andy and I were stunned to look back and think about all that has changed even in just one year's time. Ari's growth has been exponential and immense, and even the changes we have made with the house, our career paths, and our future plans have been pretty expansive.

What will we accomplish by the time another year has cycled around? How much more will have happened? There is something miraculous in the amount we can cram into small pockets of time. Intricate, infinite, and full of possibility.

Viral Haiku

Fighting off the flu...
many thoughts, but too fuzzy.
My brain tonight: mush.

The Next Day

So history was made last night. Andy and I went to be excited, stunned, hopeful, grateful, and relieved. We were moved to tears several times, and even in listening to coverage this morning as I was getting ready for school, so many personal stories and people's thoughts on the election called up those same emotions. For me, I think they are tears of joy primarily... and perhaps the release of 8 years of waiting for a president for whom I could feel pride and admiration.

One thing that hits you in studying presidential history is how character and integrity seems to truly differentiate the good presidencies from the bad. Having admired Teddy and Franklin D. Roosevelt, Lincoln, Adams, Washington, and Kennedy for their ability to inspire, energize, comfort, exhort, and change the course of history, the ability to call Barack Obama the president-elect renews my hope that such leadership and vision is again possible.

I have heard from so many friends how they feel proud of this country again, and I know what they mean. Although it does not heal the deep divisions based on a history wherein democracy was not truly diverse nor representative of the variegated face of our nation, it's a step toward cultural and social evolution... bringing us a little bit closer to fulfilling the dreams and ideals upon which this country was based and which I think we all hold within our hearts as something worthy of pride and a great commitment.

We can became we did, and we did can become we will as history rolls forward and we are offered the challenge of taking a collective leap forward to write a new and courageous narrative for our nation, ourselves, and the generations to come.

Nov. 4

Every time an election rolls around, I feel a great surge of appreciation and love for this country. I joyfully immerse myself in the coverage, the personal stories, the debates, the polling station experience... all of it. Even the tiring parts are still interesting and tend to suck me and Andy in so that we spend hours on end listening to the radio, following CNN, or discussing political snippets heard throughout the day.

I am forever amazed at how we manage to make it all work every 4 years. Even with the setbacks, the upsets, the potential frauds, and inevitable voter disenfranchisement, the country manages to move forward and do its best with each administrative change. (And with the hope that each time we move through the cycle, we will do it better.)

Even though Andy and I have talked about moving if Obama does not win, I don't know that we ever would. Where else can you watch presidential candidates making fun of themselves mere days before votes are to be cast? The ability for the same politicians who are fighting so hard to appear dignified, experienced, and sharp to engage in parody and satire so they may poke fun at their idiosyncracies and frailties is a unique and beautiful thing.

As uncomfortable as it might be at times, it's still rather amazing such political discourse and artistic expression is possible and embraced in the midst of world-changing decisions about which millions of people are desperately passionate.

As the returns are coming in, I am hopeful things will go our way this time around. It's unbelievably exciting to know all of my friends scattered around the globe are sharing in this moment with as much anticipation and hopeful glee as I.

We are united in our collective participation in one of the greatest gifts of our democracy... ready to see what the next four years will bring and praying for a truly new direction.

A Great Loss

We have these rare people, throughout history, who for whatever reason seem to shine a little brighter or impact more lives than the average human being. Shakespeare, in A Midsummer Night’s Dream talks about greatness via Malvolio: "Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them."

The way I see it, some people have the talent, perspicacity, and gift of communication such that they reframe our experience so we understand it in an entirely new way. They inspire, challenge, confront, and question… and as a result, we are made better through our interpretation of their shared journey.

In our increasingly public and media-rich society, the greatness of ordinary geniuses has become more widespread, and the celebration of everyday heroes more common. Yet even in recognizing the presence of beauty and nobility in those around us, we may still be struck by someone who seems to be particularly gifted… unquestionably special. Someone who changed the world through the process of making meaning of his or her life.

Studs Terkel was such a person. When I heard this morning he had passed away, my first thought was of my friend, Chloë, who I know will be heartbroken at his passing. My second thought was how truly ironic and sad it is that he died just days before an election he was surely following with great interest and personal investment based on a lifetime of advocacy, passion, and insight.

Sometimes I think when we lose someone like this, the world shudders a little. As if a little bit of life has been lost in a sudden exhalation… and we are not yet sure what we will get with the next intake of air. But perhaps the important thing is to continue breathing, and to be grateful such miracles exist.

Vulnerable Intimacies

It's 9:30 but feels like 10:30 and my brain is fried. Ah well. I woke up this morning thinking about friendships and marriage and how intimacies get more difficult as one gets older and relationships become more complicated over time.

I'm not sure friend-making was ever easy for me, but I do recall feeling less trepidation when I was younger and being able to form close bonds much more easily and quickly. Mind you, I was an artist and tended to hang out with artists... so we were a bunch of touchy-feely-minded folks.

But it has gotten trickier. Maybe even harder upon having a child. We don't really prioritize our own time for socializing. And so I think we've become even more isolated - though that likely connects to a series of decisions we made in the last few years.

And I'm not really complaining about this... just sort of thinking about it and noticing it and wondering after it. It feels akin to so many of the other simple and innocent pleasures of childhood that seem to slip away with age and increased responsibilities and connections to the world.

Anyway... I sometimes miss the friends who slipped away, and I often wonder what the next 10 years will hold in the way of closeness to others. Intimacy is such a tricky thing because it so often gets tangled in with sex... but being able to be vulnerable with others is, I believe, a very integral part of living and existing fully and authentically. (And I am speaking of emotional vulnerability here, not physical.)

Allowing such frailty is sometimes necessary for deeper understanding and growth, and so it's good and perhaps quite important to have people around whom you can relax and be imperfect... not just your spouse, or partner, or family... but strangers who become vital to you as they move into the realm of friend because they get to see a side of you that is unique, unfiltered, and separate from the definitions of your other intimate connections.

Art Collides with our Former Lives

On our way home from breakfast this morning we heard someone we knew (actually two someones) being interviewed on NPR. We sat in the car and pieced together what was being talked about and slowly figured out what our friends from our Chicago days, Karen and CJ, were doing on the radio.

Turns out they were part of this very cool project undertaken by Corey Dargel, a songwriter who took commissions from people online to write songs... which became an album of 13 songs written about other people's loves. He did a mix of relationship types (romantic, familial, platonic), and his music is sort of odd and ethereal and simple and poetic all at once.

Very interesting. If you want to listen, check it out here. There are some snippets online and a bit of Karen's and CJ's story, which inspired their song.

Pakistan

How hard in seeking safety
to choose to sleep outside
amidst rubble and frightened
children, among crying neighbors
and the vibration of panic
running like a current through
each encampment.

No food, no water, no sense
of when relief may come.
Longing for stillness and
waiting for an answer to
the first ripple, like an echo
headed homeward to its
tremulous beginning.

Arms cling tight to loved ones
and prayers trickle from lips
like water pouring forth across
a blighted landscape, searching
for life. It must be hard to reconcile
the erasure of years compounded
tangibly into stability and shelter.

Gone in a space of time
inconsistent with the aftermath;
the outcome insufficiently
explained in any language
as those left empty steal
fitless sleep and wake
to stop the dreaming.

Thought to Word to Deed

It's been a strange week and a particularly strange day. I sometimes marvel at the synchronicity life serves up at times, and I have been flooded lately with thoughts on multiple subjects.

Mental health and wellness, professional roles in the various mental health tracks and what it means to enter a career track that is still - in many ways - in the process of being defined, nostaligia and the impact of memory, forgiveness and gratitude... and the restorative power of nature and how even the simplest of things, like sunshine and the scent of burning leaves, can be a source of salvation in difficult times.

I was listening to NPR this morning (I know... what a surprise), and I heard a story about a woman who was reconsidering her college options because her mother had lost her job. One of the schools she had previously considered, Boston University, carried a projected price tag of $200,000 for 4 years there.

That's where I went to school. And although it was not quite that high at the time I attended, it was enormously pricey. And it made me realize what a huge gift it was to receive help from my parents in order to attend.... and an even greater gift when my mother and stepfather paid off my college loans several years ago.

I had already been thinking about all of the sacrifices they made throughout my childhood and about how all the things I had taken for granted (holidays, traditions, safety, good schooling, an emphasis on education, dinners together each night, long talks, responsibility and freedom) are so amazingly hard and stressful when you're the parent.

Having my own child has opened my eyes to the amount of sacrifice, intention, thought, care, generosity, love, and careful attention they put into raising me. It has increased my gratitude for and appreciation of their parenting choices, along with forgiveness for mistakes, which we are all capable of making (and all do).

I do not say thank-you enough. I feel, especially lately, like I need to do a better job of expressing my gratitude toward those special people in my life and opening my heart more in order to spend more time expressing joy and less time caught in criticism, impatience, or stress-induced frustration.

Lately I imagine writing thank you cards each week, or even each day... sending them out to everyone I can think of with personalized notes and sincere, heartfelt thanks for all the big and little things that make a difference in my life.

So... as of this moment, I make the intention to write one card per month, expressing my thanks to someone important. (And some of you may someday know if I've actually followed through!)

Connection, Conversation, and the Mystery of Ohio

I managed to get to early voting today and met a woman named Fran. She sat next to me and did something I never, ever do when I sit next to strangers: She struck up a conversation with me.

I don't know if it's my introverted nature or the impact of living in the northeast for roughly 9 years... but I just don't tend to talk to people I don't know. I assume they want to be left alone, or - even worse - I assume something uncomfortable or unpleasant will happen within the conversation and so I decide it's ultimately safer to remain silent and hope the person near me will do the same.

Silly... yes. Cynical... probably. Of course, almost every time I do end up talking with someone, it ends up being a great conversation that lifts my spirits in some way and renews my faith in others. I have gotten better at being less self-conscious when somebody I don't know breaks the ice, asks a question, or just starts sharing elements of his or her life.

Today I met a Democrat in her 70s who plays bridge with a bunch of Republicans and has a daughter who lived in Alaska for 5 years. She thinks "we" won the last two elections and said she was more excited about this election than any other she's ever been through in her life.

She's voting for Obama. She thinks he's going to do very well. We agreed we're hoping for a landslide.

I get the sense that, if he does win, Fran will happily go to her bridge night that week, barely able to contain her glee as she is finally able to crow over Democratic success and political vindication long past due. Her Republican friends will grumble good-naturedly; arguments and jibes will turn to joking and laughter, and then they will all segue into talking about children and grandchildren, hopes and fears, sillinesses and memories etched firmly in their minds. And life will flow on.

Which Stream Are You Standing In?

I have really started to understand lately - nay even grok, as Kim might say - how intensely experience-altering shifting one's perspective can be. I have started to see the ways I am in control of my living.

The experiencing of my life rests upon the meaning I make of it, which connects to the perspective or filter I use when translating the events of each day into meaning. So... the more I am able to choose to see joy, to look for the high points or the blessings or the gifts, the more the story of my experience becomes one that is positive and optimistic.

Of course, I have also realized lately what a hard time I tend to have in doing this. But at least the concept has become much, much clearer. As if I can see the dance and I know the steps, I just haven't mastered putting them all together yet without tripping every now and then.

Today I am thankful for being exactly where I am supposed to be,
for the support of good people who are loving and kind and generous with their strengths,
for people who always choose to smile and select kind words and tell jokes,
for being stronger for the difficult times,
for seeing I have grown,
for being open to my weaknesses and accepting the challenge of change,
for the beauty of music, the complexity of life, and the dichotomous simplicity and chaos of existence.

Potty Pah-tay!

Ari is accident-free in only three days, and I am enormously, joyously, wondrously proud of her.

YAY BUNNY BOO!
You can now pee and poo
in the house or at the zoo
and you're still the age of two
so I sing this song for you
'cause you're super duper cool
and my heart does flips for you.
You're my big, sweet girl - yahoo!

Attachment and the Art of Compromise

One of the things I think I struggle with most is the pull I feel between being a mother and having a career. Dedication to family versus dedication to work.

In graduate school, this translates to feeling unsure whether I should take on less, do less, and strive to achieve less because it will ultimately mean getting to spend more time with my family and more time with my daughter, who seems to be having a hard time with my absence from the house lately.

I know it's a normal developmental stage, and I know separation anxiety is expected... but I also know how important attachment is to psychosical development and mental/emotional wellbeing (at least theoretically), and so it's hard to know how much to push toward independence and how much to concede we are still very linked and that she is my daugther who I love more than anything.

Lately, I've been wishing I could spend another semester at my current placement and then do a full second year at a K-8 school. I am enjoying the work, feeling bombarded by ideas and things I'd like to implement because I believe it will make a positive, constructive difference in the lives of my students, and I want to get as much learning in as I can.

But maybe such things are just as easily accomplished outside of school. I don't know. I have lofty goals, and I so rarely reach all of them. Some days that's easier to accept than others. For now, I lean toward making Ari the greater priority... and trusting that my ideas, ambition, ability, and strengths will still be present when we have moved into a phase of our family life wherein I have more freedom to pursue my passions and curiosities.