Think. Say. Do.

I wrote a play, while in The Neo-Futurists, about prayer and the semantic difficulty of finding a word that adequately expresses what I feel I do when I'm asking for help or trying to connect with something larger or seeking to manifest/create something new. At least, that's part of what it was about.

Prayer was not a word ever used by my family and, in fact, I grew up sort of feeling like it carried a negative connotation - too religious, too Christian, too attached to dogma. I grew up without formal religion. I attended church with friends every once in a while, but I was primarily raised in what might be called a "New Age" theology or spirituality. My brother and I were encouraged to question, to explore, to define our own beliefs and to learn as much as we could about others. A pretty great way to grow up, overall.

My family always called prayer "blessings" - but it's really the same thing. And so lately I've tried to be more mindful of using the word prayer. To open myself up to using that word to communicate what I'm doing when I pray for others or pray to a higher power.

My prayer for myself, in times of trouble, is nearly always the same: Let things happen as they should; let what is to be, be. Help me trust all is unfolding just as it is supposed to.

Because, ultimately, I do believe all happens for a reason and all happens as it should. Which is not to say I believe I can sit back on my booty and just wait for good things to occur. I believe you still have to fight for your dreams, work toward your goals, and advocate for your needs. (Nor does it mean I believe bad things happen because we asked for them or deserved them... I guess it's more that I think it all leads toward personal/spiritual learning, evolution, and growth.)

So perhaps it's a marriage between destiny and fate... a balance between free will and the will of God (another word I'm trying to get more comfortable using). The bottom line is, the events of the last two weeks have tested my faith as I've prayed for guidance, patience, calm, and trust.

Most of all trust.

6(joysorrow) + sorrow

• Our taxes are done, and we're getting a federal refund.
• We owe for Illinois.
• Ariana's finger seems to be healing really well, and she has good range of motion.
• My next-door neighbor is in the hospital and is not doing so well. She's in her 90s and was close to my grandmother. I went to visit her today during Ari's nap, and she seemed incredibly lonely.
• We bought a potty for Ari.
• She likes sitting on it (with her clothes on) but does not want to try peeing or pooping in it yet.
• My parents are coming for a visit next week and will be here for a little over a week.
• I keep smashing my feet and toes into things. That's supposed to mean something, but I can't remember what.
• My best friend just got engaged, and my little sister is getting married this summer.
• I haven't been to a dentist in a REALLY REALLY long time. And it's been really hard to find one here who takes our insurance.
• I am going to be doing a "Biggest Loser" thing with some of the other ladies at work... I'm hoping it will help motivate me to lose weight as we head into summer. My goal is 25-30 lbs.
• One of my counsins is not doing too well lately. He's one of the most amazing people I know, and I really wish I was able to spend more time with him.
• My friend Rachel wrote an amazing recommendation letter for me. It made me feel really good to read it. As if I could be that outstanding and have really done a lot of great things. How 'bout that.

The accidental toddler...

We had to take Ari to the ER today. Andy closed the office door and didn't realize Ari had stuck her little hand in the opening on the far side of the door until it was completely shut. So... we feared it was broken, rushed to the ER and waited a long time for someone to see her. Luckily, she cried herself to sleep after the first hour and when she woke up she was a little trooper. She really did great considering the injury, her age, and the time of day.

The x-rays showed no fracture or break, and the makeshift splint (they basically taped two of her fingers together) was a definite no-go. Instead, she ended up with some antibiotic ointment and a bandaid... and we're hoping the swelling goes down soon.

Of course, Andy feels terrible about the accident, which I totally understand. It is always a fear she'll get hurt due to something I have done or not done. It's probably very normal for all parents and is likely programmed in on a biological level. Everyone says injury is part of raising a child... but you never want to see your baby in pain. No matter how brave she might be.

It's not easy being green...

I heard two stories today that made me feel happy, excited, and proud. Both focused on organizations begun here in the U.S. that emphasize green living, using new ideas to help work against the growing climate crisis.

The first was on NPR's Morning Edition - a story about a man dedicated to obtaining "zero waste" locally and, eventually, nationally. His name is Eric Lombardi and he has created a not-for-profit in Boulder, CO called Eco-Cycle. Eco-Cycle's Center for Hard to Recycle Materials (CHaRM) specializes in recycling unusual materials and objects. Some of the more unique items they'll recycle for Boulder residents: cooking oil; toilets, sinks, and urinals; and athletic shoes.

The second was on one of our local PBS stations and highlighted the Cambridge Energy Alliance, a nonprofit group committed to transforming the city of Cambridge by retrofitting and re-making existing buildings for homeowners and businesses into green buildings. Not only do they provide consultation and training, but they also provide low-interest loans to Cambridge residents who wish to make "green" updates.

I think sometimes it's easy to lose sight of the innovative and inspirational steps people all around the world are taking to continue making the world a better, safer, more socially conscious place to live. Whether we're headed for an environmental disaster or not, it makes me feel a deep sense of gratitude and joy to know Ari will benefit from the brilliant steps being taken to move us forward.

Three-part poo

Poo #1
Ari's sneakers, which light up and are easier for her to walk in than her pink shoes with the silver flowers, have poop on them.

My husband keeps forgetting to clean the poop off... and I really don't feel like doing it either.

Poo #2
Ari was taking a bath recently and let me know that she felt like she needed to poop. This was a circumstance worth celebrating for a parent of a soon-to-be 2 year old who is nearing potty training age and seems to sway back and forth in terms of being interested and/or ready to start. So... to be told with a slightly perceptible look of panic or at least concern that a poop was coming (we are in the bathtub, we know we do not poop in the bathtub, ergo panic/concern) was very, very exciting.

What would have been trememdous: to have a little Ari-sized toilet in the bathroom, ready to be used, upon which I could have sat her down and encouraged her to go ahead and poop while keeping her wrapped in a towel so that she wasn't too cold. It would have been perfect - it would have moved us forward through this anxiety-inducing process of potty training about which REAMS of information has been written.

But no. We have no potty... we have no special seat for the regular toilet. We were not prepared... and so our perfect opportunity for a refuse-related teaching moment passed, unsiezed, and I simply tried to praise our daughter as much as possible for recongizing she needed to poop and telling her how proud I was that we had put on her diaper in time.

Poo #3
I think I'm getting the flu... maybe a stomach bug.

It's not good timing.

A world full of frailty

Some days I listen to the morning news and wonder how it is one rationalizes seemingly small concerns like finishing the renovations on a home finding a place to live picking classes for the next semester deciding whether my daughter's language skills are developing on time worrying about the balance in the bank account creating a menu for the week and seeking to create the most efficient shopping list I can manage while trying to keep up with homework laundry cooking home repair.

But there are people being shot for leaving their homes in other parts of the world there are middle school children dying from heroin overdose just a few states away there are 9 year olds struggling through withdrawal and all I can think when I'm told there is a drug epidemic is oh my god I can't send my daughter to school how do I keep her safe (and then I think I am going to be a school counselor how can I help keep all my students safe)?

There are people left with nothing because of floods and they join the thousands upon hundreds of thousands of others who have been displaced their possessions destroyed or lost to unforeseen circumstances no one wants to take responsibility for and there is no way they can find recompense because it is chaos it is unpredictable and unfortunate and devastating and all you can do is reach out when you can and offer what you can.

But still... there are mornings when I hear these stories and wish I could simply save those shopkeepers those parents those children those flood victims those civilians caught in the crossfire those 4,000 and counting by praying or being a good person or working to do right by those around me and some would say that's enough but the body counts and bad days and crazy weather and sad stories just keep coming keep escalating and it could happen at any time to anyone because we are all human and most of us are just doing the very best we can with what we have.

Ayuda me por favor

I received help and support from unexpected places today - just as I was feeling discouraged and somewhat separate from those around me. It made me realize how important encouragement and kind words can be.

The art of asking for (and accepting!) help can be tricky for some of us. I certainly fall into that camp... I like to be as self-sufficient as possible, and I feel guilty when asking others for support or something extra simply because I am falling short in some way. Even that conveys an aspect of my own valuation of what it means to ask for help: I am less if I ask for help... it means I am not enough in some way. And the funny thing is, I don't feel that way when others ask me for help... just when I ask for it myself.

But today I asked. From several people. And the responses - enthusiastic, unapologetic, loving - left me feeling less alone, less fearful, and less anxious. A good lesson in a time of challenge and longing.

No crystal ball

One of the things I struggle with most is the increasingly unignorable truth that there is no such thing as being 100% sure about anything - at least, not for me. There is no right answer, no perfect choice, no magic wand or fated truth.

I like to believe there is. I fight against the unknowing and confusion - against what feels to me to be guessing or flailing within an infinite expanse of choice and possibility. And I suppose, rather than feeling excited or buoyed by the limitless range of options before me, I feel overwhelmed and a bit burdened... at least, with the big picture stuff.

Andy and I were talking recently about the many ways in which we as humans try to create meaning out of the inevitable chaos of life. And there is an ongoing conundrum as to whether destiny or fate exists, or if free will does indeed hold all the cards.

Ultimately, I think the Zen Buddhists are on to something in emphasizing embracing the here-and-now. Whether you have control or not, whether there is help from outside, within, or around you... perhaps the first step is to simply be. Present, aware, and awake... living with a balance between past, present, and future - with an attachment to none of the three.

Rise again

I had these wonderful and lofty plans to write about emotional resurrection and personal rejuvenation... self-care meets self-efficacy with a bit of social action and spiritual renewal mixed in. But I am exhuasted and not thinking very well at the moment.

It's been a long but wonderful day. Ari was able to participate in an Easter egg hunt at church, Andy and I had a chance to spend some QT together and also got all our errands done, and we had a great holiday dinner involving a new recipe for horseradish-dijon mustard crusted eye of round roast... a sort of blend of a few interesting ideas I found online that came together quite successfully. Ari had real mashed potatoes for the first time (which she loved), and we listened to the Putumayo World Music show on NPR while Ari danced and ate green beans.

We put together a plate for our next door neighbor, who was going to join us if her granddaughter was unable to go out. And we're finishing the evening watching one of our favorite new shows, Living with the Mek Tribe: The Adventures of Mark and Olly.

All in all, a great day - and I feel rejuvenated and resurrected after a terribly stressful week. I hope those who have had more difficulty, stress, or sadness in their own lives can experience a similar revival. May spring herald greater peace, stability, altruism, and safety - in all parts of the world.

That tastes like spring!

I have always loved brussel sprouts - ever since I was a kid. And for a long time, I just fell out of the habit of eating or buying them. But I recently discovered two recipes incorporating fresh brussel sprouts, which my husband and I both love.

They are perfect for spring - and it's lovely to buy a couple of pints all leafy-greeny-freshy-yummy from our local produce market and plop them into meals that make you feel good when you eat them.

Both recipes are from my favorite food blog: 101 Cookbooks. Heidi Swanson, the woman who writes it, is a genius... she focuses on using fresh ingredients and keeps things very simple. But man oh man - it's good stuff!

Here are the two I'd recommend that utilize the cute and plucky brussel sprout:
Carmelized Tofu
Golden-Crusted Brussel Sprouts

TGIF!

Oh the deliciousness of Friday. It is welcomed and wonderful... an end to a stressful and hectic week full of stress, burnout, anxiety, and exhaustion.

I get to sleep in; I get to relax; I get to spend time with Ari and Andy. If I'm lucky, I'll get to talk to some friends who are far away, check in with my family, and spend time outside in the fresh air and sunshine.

And I'll remember to count my blessings, practice gratitude, and re-center so I can give to others as the new week begins.

5 years

U.S. military dead: 3,990
U.S. military wounded: 29,395
Iraqi military and civilians dead: est. at 48,254; 82,249 - 89,760; or as much as 600,000+
Cost of war to date: approximately $400 billion


Stats taken from:
http://www.cnn.com/SPECIALS/2003/iraq/forces/casualties/
http://icasualties.org/oif/IraqiDeathsByYear.aspx
http://www.iraqbodycount.org/
http://usliberals.about.com/od/homelandsecurit1/a/IraqNumbers.htm
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/11880954/

R.A.O.K.

I am taking a class called Career Group Practicum this semester. It is the one everyone forewarns you about... mostly because of the time commitment involved. It's a great learning experience, but it can be very exhuasting at times. On Wednesdays, we have class with our supervisors and talk about the groups we're leading and all sorts of concepts necessary to make the classes we teach (which are psychoeducational groups) a success.

Long story short: I need chocolate for this class each week. Becky, Shelby, and I all do. We all walk down to the vending machines between Wham and Pulliam, select our individual sugary Achilles' heels in candy form, and head back for the second half of our 4.5 hour class. It's a ritual at this point, and one that ties in to some kind of collective, feminine, psychological crutch - a healthy one, but a crutch nonetheless.

I specifically grabbed a dollar before I left home in anticipation of my intended naughtiness during classtime (said chocolate). Then I forgot my water in the car and had to use my dollar to buy a Diet Pepsi because I'm one of those people who must stay hydrated or I'll get a killer headache. Come break time, I was 50 cents short... then Becky gave me a quarter, then Shelby gave me 20 cents. Only 5 cents short!

In a half-joking, half-serious way, all three of us started asking the random students scatterd around us if anyone had a nickle. To my surprise, two girls nearby both started rummaging through their bags. The girl closest to us produced a coin, and I was able to get my Three Muskateers. I thanked her (and the other woman, who offered a quarter) profusely and went back to class sufficiently bouyed by endorphins to finish up.

Never underestimate even the simplest random act of kindness. The smallest of acts can create ripples... and something that seems completely insignificant to you may totally make someone else's day.

Balance, faith, and impossible possibilities

I started the day with multiple announcements via NPR of deaths in Iraq, Israel, and a realtor who was raped showing a house to a man pretending to be an interested buyer. Sometimes I feel so concerned about the world Ari will eventually be entering as an independent and separate little person. It's hard to imagine the time at which it will feel safe orI will feel ready to let her go and trust she will be okay. (Makes me much more empathetic to my mother's worries, questions, and attention to my own life!)

Andy and I are very focused right now on finding a balanced path that unites all three of our lives and individual journeys in a way that will be productive and happy for all of us. Not an easy task, especially when one of the three cannot yet articulate her concerns, needs, interests, or goals! But we attempt it nonetheless and seek to find the middle way (a Bhuddist concept very central to my husband's and often my approach to life). This had led to much career confusion for both of us, along with some painful bouts of indecision and stagnancy.

But... I feel we are on the right path, and I have faith in not only our ability to accomplish this goal we've set for ourselves, but also a delight in and commitment to the effort itself. I am grateful I have a partner for whom such an active, mindful search is important and present.

It connects back to our own path toward one another and process by which we eventually got married and began a life together. We held out for something we had faith existed... not perfection, not an ideal, not the one and only - rather, we refused to settle... we held out for something striving toward constant improvement that simultaneously embraced challenge and sought balance between everything and nothing.

I think we both find it helpful to apply the allegory of our relationship to the travails of our larger, more occupation- and finance-focused adult lives. Don't settle... be realistic while setting high standards... look for the healthy balance, the acceptable compromise, the middle way... be willing to work for it - really really really hard... and above all, have faith. It's important to believe such things are possible and worthwile.

Wiped out

This is the first time I am writing my post late. I didn't get to it yesterday, thus breaking my internal promise to write one entry each day. This is disappointing, and seems to connect to a larger issue in my life with regard to stress and insufficient personal time.

It's a choice, it's finite, but it's very trying some days - particularly when I work late into the night and then get awakened by Ari at 4am only to start the whole cycle over at about 5:15am.

Today it feels like a sorrow more than a joy, which perhaps is just a matter of perspective. Others who are close to me would say I'm not taking care of myself (self care is what we call it in counseling) - and I'd have to admit that it's true, knowing full well what that means for my emotional, psychological, and physical health.

In this case, I think I did not manage my time wisely, and I also got waylaid by a series of self-doubts and indecision that were decidedly ill-timed.

So where is the lesson in it for me? I suppose it's multiple things... a loud and clear shouting out of steps I could take to make life go a little more smoothly and feel a little more satisfying:

• Manage your time better;
• Don't beat yourself up over indecision or confusion;
• Try to be here, now;
• Find the joy;
• Enjoy the journey. (I must credit Dr. Zyromski with that one)

Gotta go. Baby at my legs crying "Mama mama" over and over - which is certainly a joy from some angles.

Two

There is nothing so beautiful
as Ariana's smile
and the gentle, excited, gleeful way
she gives little kisses,
her eyebrows raised and
eyes wide.

There is an excited spark,
a ticklish discovery
with each new day.
She is risk-taking and trail-blazing -
a whirlwind of explosive energy
equal parts tsunami and supernova.

Every day is new... she is
my poochy-belly pumpkin,
my coffee bean,
my sweet face, scruncy nose
all and every angel.
My joy, my challenge, my daughter.

21 questions

So... how do you define joy? Do you feel you're living the life you wish to live? Are you happy? Do you feel fulfilled? Was your path based more on your heart or your head? Or both? What, if anything, do you regret? How did you prioritize? How did you end up here? What advice would you give to someone else? Are you doing what you love? Do you feel you compromised? What do you worry about?

Do you know what color your parachute is? Do you believe you can do what you love and still make money? Are you in touch with your creative juices, your artistic side, your inner voice, the child within?

How do you overcome fear and doubt? Do you believe in fate or destiny? What's the intersection of free will, the middle way, and logistical practicalities? What does your future look like?

Purpose and possibility

I have a friend whose heart is failing her. Literally. It's not working as it should and her options are very limited given her age. (She is young, which in this case is apparently not a good thing and decreases her chances of surviving surgery).

She is my main "outside" anchor here (my husband being my first and foremost anchor wherever I am), and our friendship has become increasingly important to me as we've made our way through school together. We are very different, with different backgrounds and approaches to life, but we share a lot of striking similarities as well. I think they tend to sneak up on us more... and we are left in wonderment and surprise at the unexpected link.

I have a hard time understanding sickness on a spiritual level. I can see how it provides opportunities for learning and growth (perhaps enlightenment or spiritual evolution), and I know it's an inherent and inevitable part of being corporeal and human... our frailty is an essential component of our self-understanding and experience. But the big "why" of major illness is sometimes tough for me to parse out in a way that leaves the questioning side of me satisfied.

I don't like feeling helpless. I don't like feeling life is unfair to those around me who are good people whom I love and for whom I wish good things. I often wish there was something more I could do than pray and provide emotional support. Something to fix it or resolve it or change it.

I think the helplessness is a lesson in itself. Not a very enjoyable one, but a necessary and significant one nonetheless. And there is a lesson in the praying as well - the provision of outreach, compassion, energy, and intention. We can make choices; we can seek connection; we can offer help. Perhaps it is good to remember such things are possible, and to embrace the purpose and possibility behind such actions.

i m p a c t

I saw a squirrel get hit by a truck today. I was driving home after dropping Simon off to be groomed and saw a squirrel dart into the road. I had time for a sharp intake of breath and he was down. Hit by the truck speeding ahead of me who neither swerved nor slowed.

It looked instantaneous. Although I'm pretty sure I saw a split second of surprise or fear or confusion as the vehicle hit his body. Very fast, but unmistakable: an open-mouthed, paws-up reaction to impact. Which was difficult to see and still sits with me now in my chest as I recall the event.

There is so much dying in the world right now. And I certainly don't suggest the death of a squirrel running across the road carries the same import or effect as the death of a human being in the local or national arena - at least, not for most.

But I do wonder if we are sometimes exposed to these smaller, seemingly insignificant deaths in order to remain sensitive to the larger ones. It's as if taking in mass casualties on a human level can be too overwhelming, too big, too frightening to fully comprehend. And we lose the ability to feel, mourn, and process the loss of each life.

By opening ourselves to fully experiencing even the smallest of deaths... we are more able to remain open to the ones that hit closer to home, link to more loss of life, or elicit more primal and real fears of our own in response.

I said a little prayer for the squirrel. And then said a prayer for all of our soldiers in Iraq, and the Iraqi citizens, and the many who have died in Israel and Palestine, and NIU, and Virginia Tech, and Afghanistan... I tried to remember everyone and to include everyone.

Which lately can feel very overwhelming.

Hubris Moderna

I do not want to write too much about Eliot Spitzer - goodness knows there's been plenty of coverage over the last few days. Really... it just puts me in mind of a modern Greek tragedy. I keep thinking of Oedipus and my favorite college professor's lecture on hubris. Perhaps because of the overwhelming hypocrisy and presumptive nature of Spitzer's actions. Perhaps because there seems to be a kind of personal blindness or myopia involved.

And although he did not stand up in his press conference and pluck out his own eyes, one might say - from a modern perspective - his plight and the aftermath of this mistake are indeed reminiscent of a Sophoclean climax.

What is worst, to me, is knowing his family cannot escape the media scrutiny. His wife is beign lampooned for standing beside him during his public statements. His children are likely experiencing increased incidents of teasing and bullying in the midst of an already stressful and painful time.

I'm not sure public ridicule is ever appropriate, no matter what the failure in question may be. Although they may be figurative stones in this time and place, the allegory remains relevant - particularly if we can admit our own errors and frailties and honor the complexity of what it means to be human.

Be...

I heard a story today on NPR about women in Iraq who no longer feel safe driving because of the increased violence and potential for kidnapping, shooting, or other harm if seen on the road.

It seems such a simple thing and something I realized I take for granted. Driving. And yet, there it is seen as another freedom which must be limited or entirely taken away. What was inspiring about this particular story was an interview with a woman who drives local schoolchildren to and from school. She wears no head scarf; dresses in loud, flashy colors; wears bright makeup; and sports wild red hair. The only time she wears the traditional head scarf is when she buys gas for her vehicle.

And I thought, upon hearing this story, "This woman is fearless." Which may or may not be true. But she is inspirational in her passionate pursuit of something she loves and enjoys. Something she used to take for granted and now must fight for because her culture has shifted and she is now considered less.

My friend, Rachel Claff, and I designed a series of writing and performance workshops for young women a few years ago entitled Shameless. We felt it was important to explore the ways in which women (especially young women) feel stifled or silenced in our society, as well as to offer an environment in which vocalization of taboo issues or long-buried experiences could be safe and supported by others. (We later ran a similar workshop with men; they certainly have their share of silence and repression as well.)

Although we as Western women are much more free than so many other women throughout the world, there are still circumstances within which silence, submission, and/or secrecy are still expected. Diet, media messages, body image, and eating disorders... sex, gender, and exploration of sexuality... harassment and molestation... sexism and prejudice... menstruation, reproduction, menopause, and all things uterine/ovarian... etc.

Not that there's a complete moratorium on such things... but I do think a lot of girls grow up feeling certain topics are off limits, certain ideas and emotions should not be expressed, certain events or feelings cannot be shared.

I hope we continue to find shameless, fearless, empowered women throughout the world who are not afraid to live in a way consistent with their beliefs, dreams, and needs. Women who will die for their cause, who will fight instead of flee, who will speak out and stand up and defy expectation. Women who inspire without even knowing they are inspirational... simply because they live as they believe, and they are who they are.

Twenty simple pleasures for a nearly Spring day

1. Making a whistle from an acorn cap
2. Oatmeal chocolate chip cookies
3. Clean laundry smell
4. Birds who cover the land and jump into the air for a brief moment when startled
5. Driving with the windows open
6. Sunshine, warmth, and the need for sunglasses
7. Watching the hum and buzz of life within nearby small towns
8. Having a 5-year old neighbor introduce his stuffed moose
9. Leaving the coat unbuttoned and the scarf on the backseat
10. My father's laughter floating in from the side yard
11. Iced green tea
12. Opening the blinds and leaving the lights off
13. Running along sidewalks with Ariana
14. Watching Simon lie in the sun - eyes half-closed in blissful, doggy meditation
15. Little tuplips striving to peek from beneath forgotten fall leaves
16. Noticing a beautiful sunset out the back door with a smile of a moon framed between two trees
17. Turning the thermostat down, not hearing the heat come on, and still feeling comfortable
18. Conversations about God, politics, love, choice, struggle, oppression, justice, and the paranormal
19. Watching TV on the couch next to Andy
20. Clean sheets... and a feeling of yummy, happy, sleeeeeepy exhaustion

Even if you remind yourselves to remember, sometimes you still forget.

Daylight saving time
Tulips peek above the ground;
Clocks not set back... oops!

Not 9 but 10 now.
How 'bout chicks at Rural King?
(We missed church today.)

Sing a Song of Simon

We have a little Boston Terrier named Simon. Ari calls him Si-Si. Andy and I got him in 2004, right before we got married. We believe he was a trial run for the daughter-to-come. High energy, kind of naughty, intentionally hard of hearing when involved in something that is clearly a no-no... the list goes on and on.

Unfortunately, he and Ariana have not yet become best friends. It's something Andy and I hope for all the time because they truly are peas in a pod. But she is still awkward around him and not careful enough, and he is jealous of her and also not always careful enough. They have a tenuous friendship beset by daily squabbles and unmet needs.

One of the things Simon seems to struggle most with is the sharp decrease in mommy-time that he gets now that Ariana is around. He loves to sit on my lap and lay on me when I'm sitting down - and so does Ari. He does not understand why the baby takes precedence over him when he was clearly around first.

So... his mommy-time now consists primarily of sleeping on my lap on the couch once Ari has gone to bed. Andy and I often chill out in front of the TV at night, and Simon's snuggles in while snoring loudly and farting up a storm. Doggy bliss.

What Simon does not know (or at least, I am guessing he does not) is that those hours on the couch together are just as blissful for me. I love my little dog. I love having him on my lap, listening to him snore, and cuddling his little body in my arms so that he feels safe and protected. He's my little dob-baby. And we bring each other joy.

Heartsick

I heard news this morning covering the shooting that took place at a seminary in Jerusalem wherein 8 Jewish students were killed before the gunman was shot and killed by a local police officer. The gunman was Palestinian, and his motives are - at this time - unclear.

I can't help but recall the recent shootings in Virginia and DeKalb; however, the chance this gunman acted alone or that his act was disconnected from the ongoing conflicts between Israel and Palestine is quite slim. Hamas did not claim responsibility, but voiced their clear support.

My understanding of the history behind the intense violence in the Middle East is terribly poor. It's one of the things I look forward to learning more about when I (hopefully) go back to school for my M.Div. Yet, my guess is that - even after attaining a better understanding of the reasons behind this struggle, I will still find it difficult to accept the sorrow, loss of life, and escalating retaliation on both sides.

8 Israelis and 1 Palestinian dead... preceded by 120 Palestinians dead... plus 4 more Isrealis... and at least 10 more Palestinians. And that's just in the last few weeks.

I don't mean to simplify what is certainly a complex and painful issue for many people or a terrifying and grim way of life for those who live in those countries.

I pray for peace... compassion... enlightenment... stability.... guidance, bravery, justice, and empathy. May those who seek safety find it. May those who seek compromise reach it.

No one in this fight deserves to suffer.

Commitment

Yesterday I became an offical member of the Carbondale Unitarian Fellowship. Today I got my welcome letter and a Unitarian Universalist Pocket Guide. As someone who was raised without a formal religious affiliation or any kind of church connection whatsoever, this is a big step. One I did not foresee prior to moving down to Carbondale, IL (which certainly sometimes only feels understandable to me and my husband by applying a theory of divine guidance).

One of my faculty members teased me about feeling called to pursue the ministry as a UU prior to even becoming a member at my local fellowship - which I thought was fair. I'm not sure why it happened, and I get the sense of caution, concern, confusion, and questioning I've received from certain people in my life. Totally get it.

All I can say is it brings me great joy to be a member. It is a wonderful, unexpected gift to have a spiritual home I am excited to enter each week. And it is an incredible surprise to feel called and to not be able to shake it no matter how much I try to rationally think and ponder and query my way out of it.

So... we shall see. Commitment has been an incredible challenge and lesson for me in this lifetime, and I have an inkling (like a small little voice in the very back corner of my mind) that may be the entire point of this opportunity. A challenge from the larger knowing of my existence to let go of fear and enter into a promise that is all-encompasing and larger than myself. One which I will make as a covenant with humanity, on a scale that requires a level of selflessness and humility unavoidable by my ego/consicous/personal self.

Ultimately, I have faith I'll figure it out along the way... and that there is purpose in the unknowing in the meantime.

Courage

To strive
To succeed
To communicate
To forgive
To persevere
To compromise
To connect
To seek
To stretch
To question
To hear
To love
To hope
To fail
To share
To choose
To sacrifice
To defend
To live
To remember
To release
To believe
To exist

Winter transmogrifies

I think sometimes we get so caught up with the down side of bad weather (delays, discomfort, disruption, and safety issues) we forget to notice its potentially beautiful and unique consequences. I'm not talking about disasters or acts of God, but rather bad weather - the stuff we sigh about when looking out the window because it's cold or wet or simply the opposite of sunny, temperate, or calm.

One of the beneficial outcomes of the many ice storms we've had this year has been the way in which it transforms the landscape. From rural, Midwestern, small town to twinkling, Utopian, faerie land... the trees become glass sculptures that look like frozen lollipops begging to be licked or delicate sugar candy aching to be crunched between teeth. The grass becomes spikey, mini-explosions scattered across the ground, jagged and reaching outward like wild toy horses straining to move out and charge into the world.

For a few hours, or even a few days, our environment shifts, taking on a magical, otherworldly appearance, and we are allowed to envision ourselves in new and unusual ways, mirroring the metamorphosis surrounding us.

3 years, 5 months, and 23 days

One of the unfortunate realities of being in a graduate program is the quality time I can spend with my family becomes severely compromised whenever I am busy or the assignments start piling up - which is often.

This affects me and Ari a bit, but it affects me and Andy even more. Due to our need to balance two work schedules, caring for Ari, working on the house, and the daily/weekly chores that cannot be ignored or put off for very long... we just don't get to see each oher very often. Our one-on-one time as a couple has decreased significantly, which inevitably happens when you have a child - but becomes a little ridiculous when one of you goes back to school.

We entered it with eyes open, though perhaps not without some mistaken assumptions. And we know we'll make it through to the other side. But the actual in it part is equal parts lonely and sad; something we both struggle to accept and make the best of.

The plus side of it all is I am more aware than ever how much I love my husband and how grateful I am to be married to him. I look forward to the point in the future when we can spend more time together, and I am forever amazed at the ways in which we do manage to stay connected despite the busyness and chaos of our lives at present.

I can't wait to grow old with him, to continue to travel our individual and collective roads as we build a family and establish roots in a life we have mindfully and actively pursued. He inspires me, he anchors me, he makes me laugh, and he challenges me to continually evolve.

So forgive the little love note, but I don't declare it loudly or often enough.

ANDY BAYIATES, I LOVE YOU!

The best cookies ever!

I love cooking and sharing recipes. It gives me great joy to share food with others and especially to know they enjoyed it and felt sated, inspired, or pleased by eating something I have made with my own two little hands.

I'm sure there are other things at work when it comes to recipes and cooking - things like my own concepts of femininity and womanhood, what it means to be successful, my self-concept and how I define myself as mother and wife, and areas of insecurity or self-doubt with regard to food and female-ness.

All of that aside, I love it when someone asks me for a recipe... LOVE it. It seems one of the greatest compliments and a clear message of acceptance and gratitude to know that someone enjoyed something I made so much they want to have it again and make it for themselves. LOVE it.

So here is my latest favorite. A biscotti cookie recipe passed down from my grandmother to my father to me. It's a variation on the traditional Italian cookie (biscotti) that is softer and a bit sweeter. Normally, you would ice them with confectioner's sugar icing... but I prefer them plain.

Round Biscotti Cookies
2 1/4 c. flour
1/2 c. sugar
2 eggs
1 stick butter or margarine
2 tsp. vanilla
2 tsp. baking powder

• Throw all the ingredients into a bowl and combine. (It can help to soften the butter first - and I usually mix it all together using my hands, rather than a spoon.)
• Once dough is mixed and ready, roll into one-inch balls and place on greased cookie sheet. Bake at 375° for 15 minutes.
• Remove to rack to cool. (Ice if desired.)

Suffering, compassion, and the power of expression

The Buddhists believe suffering is an inevitable part of life. Different braches of Buddhism seek to address that suffering in different ways, but all three incorporate concepts of compassion and detachment as methods to alleviate suffering.

Of course... we all define suffering differently. But one thing that really stood out for me this weekend is we all do indeed have something going on which we might term as pain, sadness, loss, anxiety, insecurity, or disappointment. Suffering. And... one of the things that seems to be effective for a lot of Westerners is to have a space or time within which we can speak freely about that suffering and share our story with other people.

It's the basis of therapy or counseling. Having someone who can actively listen to your story can be very powerful. And sometimes simply sharing your story... saying things out loud, naming your suffering, and letting it transition from thoughts and feelings living alone in you to an articulated concept and inner life made tangible through language can lessen its power over you.

It's as if we remove the option of remaining hidden - even from ourselves. By speaking suffering aloud, you share the burden of that suffering and place it into a larger context from which perspective is possible.

Suffering can be short and simple, complex and lengthy, or anything in between. It is as changeable and impermanent as all other things in life... but it can often feel as if we are stuck inside of it or trapped by it and cannot see a clear way out.

I think sometimes it is easy to remember to practice compassion for others - to provide a source of love and understanding to help ease another's distress. It is sometimes harder to remember to be compassionate with ourselves. To encounter fear or insecurity with kindness and gentleness, to respond to anxiety or pain with attention and calm, to treat depression or grief with patience and understanding.

To be positive in our attitude, long-viewed in our perspective, and tender in our approach. Even - and perhaps especially - with ourselves.