Savor

Yesterday the laundry and dishes and house cleaning and list-making had to wait. We played outside and rode bikes and he pulled the wagon.I'm trying to savor these moments. As cute and sweet and funny as they are, sometimes it's still hard.

Savor is the word of the day, for me. --v. To have a particular savor 2. To appreciate fully; relish.

I was savoring in a moment last Thursday on the Canal downtown. It was sunny and warm. It was quiet. Adam had David at home and I had an hour or so to myself. I took my journal and my camera. As soon as I came near these trees the sweet smell enveloped me. The smell of childhood. The smell of spring. Of new life. Of possibility.


What struck me the most was the extravagant number of flowers on each tree. The branches were literally bending under the weight of flowers! It was like a love note from God, "This is how much I love you: not an adequate amount; not a functional amount; an extravagant amount of love." It's here to savor. To marvel over. To relish.

the abby

As some of you may know, i had the opportunity to go on a 5-day personal retreat to The Abby at Gethsamani in Trappist, KY. They observe silence most of the time as a chance to deeply reflect and to more easily commune and pray to God. It was a simple, yet deeply beautiful place. It was good and strange to be alone with almost no time constraints (except meals).

I took long walks on the grounds, found a huge grassy hill that was warm and sunny the first day and just lay down in the grass and let the sun warm me and the breeze flow over my skin and rustle the long grass all around me. When I opened my eyes, my head was turned to the side. All I could see was long grass dancing in the wind with deep blue sky behind it. I purposely didn't bring my camera the first day so I could focus on "being" not doing. I wish I had my camera at that moment, but the image was so vivid, I hope I'll never forget it.

I read and wrote a lot in my journal. There were a lot of places to sit and reflect and a lot of beautiful scenery. Here's a link to an album on flickr.

For those who long for a taste of this sort of experience, let me encourage you: go for it. Even for a day or two. The drive was lovely and the experience will awaken your soul, if you let it. I have the best husband in the world, for making space and supporting me so generously. Thank you also to my amazing sister-in-law who kept all 3 kids and shuttled everyone to and from school, made lunches and helped with homework. It was a relief knowing they were in such good hands.

If you don't mind, I'll share a bit more in the next couple of days.

Grace and peace.

Holding the Stillness

these simple images captured me yesterday as the evening sun was pouring through my kitchen windows. i took a break from dinner preparation and eating to capture the light. seeing the images makes me want to hold still and listen. to breathe and really see. to take in the moment. even with children and sound swirling all around. we can still hold the stillness and find rest.

The Little Things

Our spring break is winding down. We planned on a week doing things around the house and around the city. We didn't plan on fevers and coughs that have lasted all week and spread to two kids and one husband. We've been inside most of the week with some short dashes to the store or other errands.

Yesterday evening brought a much-needed walk for D, E, and me. The sun felt so good, the light was beautiful and nature was bursting with life and color. E took a clip board and pencil to sketch nature as she saw it. She does this often at school and I marvel at her observation skills and confidence. D found all kinds of treasures for me to hold. The frequent pauses were perfect for a curious 2 year-old. Here are some images from our time together:




When we got home, I couldn't help but notice how the sun held this newly planted terra cotta pot in my window.


Wishing you wonder and health and joy this week.

Fun Project

There are lots of new babies on the way or recently arrived around here. It's fun to celebrate these new lives. I've been wanting to make a special, personal, handmade gift for these little ones. But I'm a painfully slow knitter and I'm still plugging away at the February Lady sweater. And many of these babies are spring or summer babies. Hats or sweaters don't make a lot of sense.

Instead, I made my first felt block toy inspired by The Creative Family. The book was a little thin on directions for the decorations. I tried a sharpie pen and wasn't happy with the results. So I cut out some simple shapes that needed no detail and carefully sewed them on to each block. The trick was sewing them with enough margin to allow for seams on all sides. The second tricky part was sewing the last pieces of the block in the right order and closing the last seam by hand. Practice will make this easier, I think. Still, it was done in a day and I was happy with it. I put a few bells inside so it makes sounds when you shake it.

Here are some pictures in progress and the sweet baby boy.

Adventure

I love the movie Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium. Have you seen it? It's well written--so many quotes and insights into our humanity and journey. I watched it on my birthday last December and try to watch it every so often to keep the wonder and anticipation fresh in my own journey. Natalie Portman's character, Molly Mahoney, is "stuck" as a person. She knows she has so much potential, she just can't seem to break through some invisible barrier to fully express all that is in her. She moves between calling people to believe in the magic she knows to be true and resigned cynicism--that the magic works for others, but not for her.

Mr. Magorium gives her an odd gift one day--for an adventure. He says, "Unlikely adventures require unlikely tools." Mahoney asks, "Are we going on an adventure?" "My dear," replies Mr. Magorium, "we're already on one."

Yes. We are. Every moment of our lives. We just don't know it sometimes. Other times we see the option to plunge into the unknown and we back away. Back into safety, responsibility, predictability, manageable situations, plenty of margin, no risk. We've been convinced this is better. Better not to ask the risky questions of ourselves, our beliefs or others. What if we don't like the answers? Better not to dream. What if it doesn't come true? Better not to try. What if I fail? Better to believe in myself, not God. What if He doesn't come through? Better not to feel. What if I feel something I don't know how to handle? What if I don't know what to do? Adventure.

It whispers to us in movies and music. In people living lives we admire but could never see ourselves living. It's for them. We're just ordinary. The magic doesn't work for us. Right?

"The choice before us is to journey or to homestead, to live like Abraham the friend of God, or like Robinson Crusoe, the lost soul cobbling together some sort of existence with whatever he can salvage from the wreckage of the world. Crusoe was no pilgrim; he was a survivor, hunkered down for the duration. He lived in a very, very small world where he was the lead character and all else found its focus in him. Of course, to be fair, Crusoe was stranded on an island with little hope of rescue. We have been rescued, but still the choice is ours to stay in our small stories, clutching our household gods and false lovers, or to run in search of life."
-The Sacred Romance, by Curtis and Eldridge

(I highly recommend this book, by the way. The accompanying workbook has been critical to really processing my own struggles and journey. It is well worth the investment to really examine these ideas and your own journey. Take your time and give yourself a tremendous gift.)

I've been on adventures. Lots of them. I always freaked out at some point. Usually more than once. I often felt some serious regret and fear: "Take me back!! I change my mind. I don't really want to do this." We can retreat, but we can never really go back. We can settle, but we'll always be haunted by the whispers of adventure. Even though I always freak out and want to change my mind, I'm always (eventually) the better for the adventures I've had. I have backed out of a few risky opportunities. The good news is that the core challenges will almost always come back again to present themselves. The bad news is that the cost may be extremely high.

We're already on an adventure. Where are you going? Who is with you? What baggage are you carrying? These are the questions I'm asking myself these days. Cue the music and lace up your hiking boots.

I'm ready. I think.

Feelin' it

I've become more intentional lately about making time to be still, listen, write, and read. One of the themes in several of the books I've read or am reading is to let yourself feel. It seems sort of obvious or odd to have to spend time on that topic when it should be one of our most natural behaviors.

Through my kids, I can see the other end of the spectrum. Kids can "see" and feel and feel and function in a completely imaginary world. Their imaginary realities deeply affect their physical reality. We make a seat for the imaginary friend. We hide from the pretend tiger. We dance with the imaginary prince. They slowly move from being surrounded by wonder to becoming deeply aware of the simple physical reality around them. Imagination can fade; emotions tempered to what's real and what's "pretend." Slowly, I find myself not feeling much about my realty and forgetting how to pretend, how to imagine, how to play.

Exercising with a DVD recently, I heard the instructor say, "Feel everything there is to feel with the motion." Feel everything. That's what I try not to do. It would open a can of worms! It would make me too vulnerable, make me even more "high maintenance" that I already am! :)
The hardest thing about feeling, wanting, and dreaming as an adult is the stinging possibility of denial. So we deaden our hearts. Numb ourselves with television, sports, office politics, the weather. Constant droning to silence our hearts. Drown out the voices. We put it off. "One day...maybe when I retire...when the kids are in school...when I have more time."

I'm letting myself feel everything there is to feel. I came close to the emotional cliff and peered over. But I backed away and am on more steady ground. (Long story.) I cry a little more often. I laugh with my kids a lot more often. My house is a little messier. But I know what I want. I know how I feel and what I think. I am letting myself do the things that I've always wanted to try but put off for another day. I feel more myself. More alive. More aware of my limitations and more willing to try and see what happens. I'm less afraid of failure (just a tiny bit less afraid--still more work to do there, I guess). I just don't want to spend my life not living.

I'm in a good place of trying and doing. I just wanted to share that with you. It's been a year since I started this blog. Thank you for being part of this journey with me. I so appreciate your thoughts and comments and support. I'm looking forward to what the road ahead holds for us.

Here are some pictures of my kids--my inspiration and motivation to live well and to live fully present.