23 days until I'm out of my 30s...

 "What else could they mean?"

This is a question I have learned to ask myself, upon the realisation that honestly, most things are not about me, even if they feel like they are.

When the story I tell myself (thanks Brene Brown for that language) heads down a road of taking things too personally, I now stop to wonder what else someone could mean by what they said. Even if it's outlandish, I try to come up with at least two alternative theories that might explain someone's words or actions, and then I try them all on before deciding that it really was commentary about me/my work/etc. Sometimes, of course, it was meant to be taken personally. But sometimes (most of the time) it really isn't about me at all. 

It's probably been about 5 years since I started asking myself this question and it might be one of the best things I've ever learned for my mental health (right up there with the importance of exercise!).

Feel free to ask it yourself too. So useful!

As Mary Oliver says: there are many ways to perish, or to flourish...one way to perish is to believe everything is about me. And one way, for me anyway, to flourish, is to ask myself what else they could mean -- because not only does that remind me not everything is about me, it also allows me to be more empathetic, to imagine what else is going on with someone and to look through their perspective for a bit, and to perhaps see a new way. 

This is Mary Oliver's poem "Evidence (2)"

There are many way to perish, or to flourish.

How old pain, for example, can stall us at the

threshold of function.

Memory: a golden bowl, or a basement without light.

For which reason the nightmare comes with its

painful story and says: you need to know this.

Some memories I would give anything to forget.

Others I would not give up upon the point of

death, they are the bright hawks of my life.

Still, friends, consider stone, that is without

the fret of gravity, and water that is without

anxiety.

And the pine trees that never forget their

recipe for renewal.

And the female wood duck who is looking this way

and that way for her children.  And the snapping

turtle who is looking this way and that way also.

This is the world.

And consider, always, every day, the determination 

of the grass to grow despite the unending obstacles.

this is a few blocks from my house, and I see it often when out walking. 

28 days until I'm not in my 30s anymore

28 days....4 weeks! So exciting. I love my birthday. Actually, let's be real: I love everyone's birthdays. I love the chance to celebrate. And the thought of turning over a new chapter and having new experiences...that's my jam. I'm all about all these things. #enneagram7 (though that's a learning for another day!)

Today I have been thinking about a lesson that was hard to learn. When I was growing up, I was often told I could do and be anything I wanted. Of course it was the 1980s and we all knew that wasn't true right then, it was more aspirational. Like...obviously my mom would say I *could* grow up to be president, but that's not entirely true, is it? Not because I'd be a terrible president, but because that's not a thing women can do just yet. Between social, political, and economic realities, the statement "you can do anything" is the kind of thing that we hope will become true the more we say it.

Anyway, I am mildly embarrassed to admit how old I was when I realised that one of the things that was causing me some level of unhappiness was that somehow I had internalised the idea that I could, or should, be able to do everything all at once. I'm not sure how people who have spouses and kids manage this, because even as a single person it was a shock to realise that I was going to have to live with a sort of cycle of things I wanted, rather than being able to do literally everything all at once. Clearly, you can't simultaneously work a dream job and travel the world and hang with friends and write a book and climb the ladder of denominational or community leadership, etc etc etc. It's more a rhythm of things weaving in and out than it is an all-or-nothing life experience.

I'm not sure why it took me a long time to figure this out, but it kinda did. I'm glad I learned it though, because I'm so much happier now than I was before I realised why I was feeling so frustrated all the time. :-)

The poem I've been pondering today isn't exactly related to this lesson. Or maybe it is. Anyway...it's by Joy Harjo, the poet laureate of the USA. She is a native woman from the Muscoge (Creek) tribe, and I first heard her during this year's Edinburgh International Book Festival, and I've been exploring some of her work. Today's is a poem called "A Map to the Next World" and it ends with these lines:

We were never perfect.

Yet, the journey we make together is perfect on this earth who was

once a star and made the same mistakes as humans.

We might make them again, she said.

Crucial to finding the way is this: there is no beginning or end.

You must make your own map.

That feels a little like what I think I've learned. 

On this day—my birthday—in 1512...

In the 21st of October, 1512, young monk Martin Luther joined the theological faculty of the University of Wittenberg!

It was to be a bit of a tumultuous tenure, as he began teaching through the Bible, and discovering that some of what he had been taught, and some of what was being peddled (literally) by the church of his day was not exactly faithful to the biblical or theological tradition.

Luther taught theology...it was when he was teaching the book of Romans a few years later that he had a significant breakthrough that eventually led him to the actions that we now commemorate as the beginning of the Protestant reformation. (Those actions took place on the 31st of October 1517...just five years and ten days after he took up the post in the theology faculty....and then a mere 489 years after that, I was ordained! Yay reformation!)

I have visited Wittenberg a few times. Aside from the kartoffelhaus—a restaurant where every single one of the hundred + menu items features potatoes!!—the main attractions of the town are the two churches and the Luther house. It’s a fascinating place to visit and I highly recommend it. Not least because Luther moved there on my birthday! Or what would become my birthday, anyway!

(This is the last of this year’s addition to the birthday buddies series!)

On my birthday...in...a lot of years!

I am having so much trouble deciding what event to highlight from October 21 today!

In 1975, Elton John got a star in Hollywood! How cool is that?
In 1520, Magellan and his crew rounded the cape and became the first Europeans to enter the Pacific Ocean! I love the Pacific Ocean...
In 1971, Pablo Neruda won the Nobel Prize for Literature! His poetry is gorgeous and moving.

I think what we can learn from this is that the 21st of October is a most auspicious day, and just like me, there’s too much awesome to be contained!!

#Enneagram7

(We might also surmise that the sermon I am planning to preach on October 21 has a lot going on. Perhaps it could use narrowing down, but it’s all important so what can I possibly leave out???)

Anyway....I know EXACTLY what historical event I’m posting as “on this day” tomorrow, so it’s time to let the clock tick over and turn to celebration! Just as soon as I solve the sermon problem...


In an ongoing birthday buddies series...

On my birthday...in 1797!

I am a mere 183 years younger than the USS Constitution, often known as “Old Ironsides”!
On the 21st of October, 1797, the third attempt to float the massive warship finally succeeded, and a bottle of Madeira was broken over her bow, and she began the first day of multiple centuries of service in a time when the average lifespan of a warship was 10-15 years.

The design of the frigate was slightly different than those typical of the time, being intentionally thicker and heavier—built to last. And last she has, through multiple wars, training hundreds of navy officers, traveling around the world repeatedly, and now serving as a museum to educate visitors—still with an active duty crew!

I visited the USS Constitution during my family’s trip to New England in 2006, just before I took my first call as a Presbyterian pastor. During that trip, in fact, I was going to the UPS store every day to fax documents about buying a house. But despite how crazy that was, I still remember many of the cool places we saw on that trip—from lighthouses to Paul Revere’s house to witch’s houses. We sailed in Boston Harbour and I dumped some tea overboard. LOL. And, of course, because dad was with us, we naturally visited the ship. Because no vacation with dad is complete without at least one ship.

Anyway...I love that this ship was launched on my birthday (well, okay, 183 years before my birthday) and that she has so surpassed every expectation. Not least because when I was ordained, the average pastor lasted less than five years in ministry....and I am currently joking-not-joking about serving until my 50th ordination anniversary. There’s something to be said for outliving the average—as long as you can adapt to the changing needs of your context, which Old Ironsides has done very well. Keep up the good work!



(The latest in my new section of the birthday buddies series, leading up to my birthday, just two days away now!)

On my birthday...in 1959

(A new addition to my “birthday buddies” series, inspired by round six of the Spinny quiz, which is always “on this day”)

The 21st of October, 1959 was a monumental day. Not only because my mother was one year and two months old on that day, but also because it was the day that the Guggenheim Museum, designed by Frank Lloyd Wright, opened in New York City!

Photo from FrankLloydWright.org

The Guggenheim is an incredible museum, and a beautiful piece of work in its own right. All curves, no traditional rectangular galleries, a curving ramp that takes you past every piece with no possibility of getting lost in a maze of painting...it’s gorgeous.

It was, of course, like apparently everything that happened on my birthday, controversial. But the main reason for the controversy was so fascinating: people thought the building would compete with the artwork inside! They said the structure wasn’t fit for purpose, because it was too beautiful and too unconventional. !!!!!

The museum it was designed to house was literally called “the museum of non-objective painting.” The person who commissioned Wright to do it said she wanted “A Temple of the Spirit!”

Despite the mixed reviews from contemporary artists and architects who had difficulty seeing the vision, the museum is now one of the most iconic buildings and art spaces anywhere in the world. That day in 1959 was a triumph for vision that makes new things possible. Happy birthday, Guggenheim Museum!

(I can’t find my own photos from there...it’s possible I was busy looking at everything and not taking pictures, or that they are only print and not digital and therefore I don’t have them anymore, so I’m using google to show you all how amazing it is!)

https://goo.gl/images/gkVvkw

On my birthday....in 1805

continuing with my new series leading up to my birthday (piggy backing on my Birthday Buddies series a few years ago)

I was born on the 175th anniversary of the Battle of Trafalgar—the naval battle that shaped Britain for generations. Or centuries, even, if you count things like Trafalgar Square in London, or Regents Bridge in Edinburgh, which are dedicated to the battle and indeed the man who won it, at the cost of his own life, Admiral Horatio Nelson.

I confess that growing up in the USA I knew precisely nothing whatsoever about the Battle of Trafalgar. I mean...I knew that Britain had a navy, obviously. I knew about the existence of Napoleon and that there were long decades of war related to his quest for territory and power. That pretty much sums up my knowledge of an event that is still known as the “most important naval battle in British history.” Apparently the 21st of October is even designated “Trafalgar Day.” Who knew? (Well...probably British people. But not me, until today.)

I have seen Admiral Nelson’s uniform in the museum at Greenwich, and marveled at the visible bullet hole (with clean edges too) in the shoulder. Most of what I know about the battle (still hardly anything) I learned in that museum.

But the reason I decided to feature this event in my birthday blog? Because the REASON it was such a victory is because Nelson went against the traditional form of naval battles, structuring his fleet in a completely different way from the way it had always been done before. Even though he was technically outnumbered, and faced a fleet with at least some of the ships being of superior quality, his choice of non-traditional tactics and structure made him the winner of the day. (Except for the dying part, obvs.)

So of course I would choose a day of unorthodox strategy leading to victory to celebrate! :-) I think that deserves a statue at the top of a huge column in the middle of a busy square in London, don’t you?

On my birthday....in 1964

Many weeks I spend my Thursday evening at my local pub, which has a quiz on Thursdays. Round 6 of the quiz is “on this day”...so I thought I’d borrow that for a little birthday series!

A few years ago I did a series leading up to my birthday, featuring some of the cool people I share October 21st with. This time, it’s exciting events to share the day with!

So, in no particular order, for the week leading up to my birthday...

October 21st, 1964: the film version of My Fair Lady premiered! That’s right, I was born on the 16th anniversary of the first time Audrey Hepburn sang “Wouldn’t it be loverly” on the big screen. Or rather, sang it but then had her voice removed and dubbed over. It was a controversy to cast her rather than Julie Andrews (who played Eliza in the Broadway and West End productions), but what would my birthday be without a little controversy? The ending of the musical provides more controversy too, as sometimes the stage productions differ from the movie, both of which differ from the original story...who knows how Eliza would really have ended it???

My Fair Lady is a delightful musical, and it’s fun to think I was born on the day the movie version was first seen!

Not *quite* fluent...

I have learned several languages in my life—some for speaking, some for reading. There are lots of aspects to learning a new language, from the basic vocabulary, to the different forms of verbs (and nouns, in some languages), to grammar rules, to pronunciation and inflection, etc.

There are also stages to learning a language.
There’s the stage when all you can do is say ridiculous things that bear no resemblance to conversation, because for some reason discussing the cat on the chair or under the table or whatever is the way to learn. (I’ve never quite understood this, but...yeah.)

There’s the stage when you can read relatively well but speaking is still a bit beyond your ability.

There’s the stage when you can speak decently, and though no one would mistake you for a native, they might mistake you for someone who can understand them if they speak back to you at their normal speed.

There’s the stage when you dream in the new language, and that’s usually a sign you’re headed for fluency.

When it comes to my Familiarisation process, I would say I’m somewhere between those last two stages. I feel like, as I try to work out things like Remembrance and Christingles and Watchnight, and to navigate the search process which is far more different from the PCUSA than I think most of us realise, I am at the stage of language acquisition where I can speak decently enough, but when someone starts talking to me I still have to spend a significant amount of energy translating to my native tongue before I can proceed in the conversation.

This is also true of basic life things like temperature (I’ve got my weather app on Celsius because it seems like I should be able to figure that out, but I’m definitely translating that to Fahrenheit in my mind when I want to know which coat to wear in the morning)...and cooking, where directions will say things like “use 200 ml of water to cook 40g of quinoa per serving” (I’m so glad I brought my American measuring cups in my suitcase, lol!)...etc.

So...all of that to say, I may look like I’m getting the hang of things, little by little, but I’m still translating inside my mind and that makes me slow to figure out what you’re talking about, or what I’m supposed to do next, or what to expect from the search process or communication norms or what “lay a wreath” means exactly, or which tunes the Christmas carols are sung to (hint: all different than they are in the US!), or how the order of worship is both the same and different from where I am right now and from all my previous experiences.

But my dreams are here, and use at least some of the language and images and culture, so I’m calling that a good sign. :-)

moving...

A few weeks ago, I announced to my church that I am moving away this spring. My last day at church will be at the end of April, and then at the end of May I'm taking a one-way flight to Scotland! I'm transferring to the Church of Scotland, which of course could also be called The Original Presbyterians (tm).

from my first time living on Iona...almost half my life ago!

I've loved Scotland from the first minute I set foot there in June of 2000. This is not the first time I've nearly moved, nor the first time I've considered it. I have friends in Scotland who began asking me in 2012 if I was ever going to actually move, or just talk about wanting to. The timing has never been right before, but this time I think the Spirit has finally lined things up. :-)

I've had this porcelain doll probably 30 years
and I only just noticed that it's a little creepy.
I apologize to everyone who has slept under
its gaze in my guest room.

So...this weekend, I held a living estate sale, and sold a large chunk of my belongings. I still have a bunch left to sell, of course, because it turns out that living in the same place for 10 years means I have somehow managed to accumulate All The Things. I've dropped off a car load of clothes at the thrift shop that supports the women's shelter, and I'll drop off a carload of housewares tomorrow. My condo went on the market today. Things are in motion.

how many picture frames can one person accumulate? a lot. with no pictures in them, of course, because why would I do that?

Lots of people have asked how I decided to do this, and where I'll be going, and if I can take the kitties, and what my dad thinks of my moving so far away, etc. I'm planning to put up a page with answers to all this and more, I promise. Then it'll just be there, in a tab at the top of the page, so it's easy to find.

In the meantime:
*The process for transferring my credentials to the CoS is long, and I've been considering it for a while. I declined the first time I was invited to an interview weekend, but went last year. It feels right and I've loved Scotland and the model of the CoS (geographic parishes) for a long time.
*Yes, I'll take the kitties, and no, they don't have to be quarantined, as long as everything is in order before we go. It will be very expensive to take them, though, so I've set up a GoFundMe page because I'd prefer not to be anxious about going into debt to bring them. They pick up anxiety and I don't want them to be unhappy either!
*My dad seems excited for me, and I've lived at least 2000 miles away for my entire adult life (and some of those years were a lot more than 2000 miles) so I don't get the sense it's a big change, other than in the number of time zones.
*No, I'm not taking my car, because it'll be backwards. Yes, I am taking a few things from my house, but not many. I even managed to cull about half my library, which was like cutting off an arm. I definitely put more than half of my panda collection into the "keep" box though.

Now that the news is out, I'll hopefully be able to blog more. It's hard to write when there's something big brewing that isn't public knowledge yet, so my blog has been neglected. Sorry about that! More to come, I promise.

things I didn't want to learn...

Today I learned what a stress fracture looks like on an x-ray.*

I could have done without this knowledge, especially when looking at an x-ray of my own leg.

It appears that my usual approach of "walk it off" was never going to work...so now I will spend the next eight weeks sitting even more than I have been the past eight weeks. grr.

That means I won't be able to run the fall half marathon. And it means I'm now accepting suggestions for non-weight bearing exercise I can do (at home) instead, so that when I *am* back to running, it won't be like starting from couch-potato...even though I will need to be practically the definition of couch potato for two months.**

Also, if anyone wants to contribute to my "summer of sitting" amazon fund, I have a really long list of books I want to read. hahahahahahahaha.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some comfort foods to eat. Because obviously if I can't exercise, I should instead plan to drown my sorrows in cheese and ice cream...


*it looks like a little bubble almost, wider than it is deep of course, just an arch of fibers separating from the edge of the bone. Now that I have seen it, I kind of think that's what it feels like, actually.

**It's probably not a running injury, just an exacerbated-by-running injury, so let's not go down the "maybe you should quit running" path. 

hot and cold, new and old...

This year I have spent an inordinate amount of money on my house. In the past 12 months I have needed (due to breaking or danger): a new washer & dryer, a new water heater, a new furnace/air conditioner, and new floors. It's a little out of control.

Of course, now basically my entire house is new and beautiful. My floor is amazing and I still, 9 months after it was installed, walk in every day and sigh with happiness (and relief). My water heater is not leaking and is in no danger of flooding my downstairs neighbor. My washer actually runs a whole cycle without me having to advance it myself, and it has different temperatures of water, and it doesn't leak from some mysterious place underneath! The dryer dries clothes without burning them. And I can control the temperature in my house via an app on my phone (the fancy thermostat comes "free" with a new furnace/ac unit)...and turning the heat on will not lead to CO poisoning.

All a win, if not for the checkbook.

In addition to those new things, I also got something so lovely yesterday. I opened a package from my grandma, which I anticipated held a bunch of recipes. It did...and also a super soft and warm and adorable fleece blanket with a kitten pattern. It has made me so happy for the last 24 hours.

And now, apparently, I'm done with that. Time to turn up the heat and look for a scarf, because the decidedly not-new cats have claimed the blanket, and the old blanket, and basically the whole couch.

This is my life.

Monastery Day, attempt the first

Jan, when she was a parish pastor, used to make a regular practice of "Monastery Days"--days when she was outside her usual workspaces, reading and praying and studying and people-watching. I think she often had her Monastery Days at a Starbucks in a neighboring town.

I have decided that I need something like this if I'm ever going to think a thought all the way through. I have lots of days when I work from home, or from the Starbucks at the train station, or in my office...and all of those are good. But there's something about going elsewhere to read and think and pray that somehow makes things more clear.

So a friend/colleague and I agreed to try these, on the first Monday of each month. We wouldn't do it together, exactly--but we'd do it at the same time on the same day, to hold each other accountable to actually doing it.

Naturally, this first month we were to try it, I had a complication. Namely, that I'm supposed to be facilitating an adult education class on Monday nights. oops. (lol...you would think I would have learned to use a calendar by now!)
So I moved to Tuesday.

Tuesday was bright and sunny, with blue skies to offset the remaining brightly colored leaves as well as the stark empty oak branches. It was a gorgeous day to walk and sit and read and eat and ponder by a lake...so I went to Lake Geneva. The good ol' LG never lets me down (except that one time when Kilwin's was out of my favorite flavor of ice cream...omg).

In the long tradition of solvitur ambulando (it is solved by walking), I rambled along the lakefront path, looking at light playing on water, shadows of fish, enormous houses, changing leaves, and remnants of bygone days. I prayed and thought and spent some time clearing my mind while my body was moving. It was gorgeous.

The only not gorgeous part is that my right knee hurts like you would not believe.*

So my Monastery Day was interrupted, if you can call it that, by a trip to the doctor's office. I'd gotten a call in the morning that if I was willing to drive to Rockford, I could get in that day (filling a cancellation)...otherwise I would wait two weeks. I'm glad I went because I would really prefer to be walking and running without constantly thinking about how my knee hurts. I need that time to empty out and think about other stuff!

While I was walking, I decided to try to pay very close attention to details. This is usually not my strong suit, so I think it's a good practice for me to try for the next month. This is a time of year when things change rapidly, and it's easy to miss the little things.

I don't know that I solved anything while walking yesterday, except for some of the clutter in my mind and heart. I replaced that with beauty, at least for today.

the only piece left...

just a little lakefront cottage...with matching playhouse

the path

this may be one of my favorite photos ever. There's just something about it...

*really, you wouldn't believe it. My pain tolerance is *very* low, so it's entirely likely that if it was your knee, you wouldn't even feel it, while I am over here acting like I'm dying. I swear, it hurts a LOT. For me.

the best laid plans...

...sometimes have to be sacrificed for sleep.

I had a super profound blog post for today, I swear. But it will have to wait, because I've been fighting to stay awake for an hour already, so I'm about to take my super lame old-lady self to bed before 9...and before I fall asleep on the couch and wake up with a stiff neck and all the lights still on.

If I manage to keep blogging into December, then you can look for the post I think was going to be so profound. I'll mix it in with some kitty news and food pictures, so you can find it easily. ha.

happy last day of November...as we slide headlong into winter, may your holiday season (whichever holiday you may celebrate) be bright. Especially since it's so dark outside.

oops...missed a day!

Yesterday I wasn't quite ready to write a sermon, so I spent the day reading novels.

Yes, novelS, plural. I read two whole books yesterday. Both historical fiction about women...one more a romance novel and the other a well researched imaginative retelling about Napoleon's American sister-in-law whom he refused to recognize.

I also took a nap.

Between these three things, I didn't go to bed until about 1am...and because I was busy reading, I forgot to blog!

So November will go down as ALMOST NaBloPoMo. Hopefully I can manage to get something up the next few days, and there will be just the one lost day.

I have to say--if I'm going to miss a day, I'm glad to have missed it for a day spent in my pajamas, petting cats and reading novels. I am grateful for the leisure to take a whole day without any productivity, for a home that holds heat well, for blankets and more clothes than I need, for cats who snuggle and purr, for plenty of food.

Today: a sermon. I swear. And also Tofurkey, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, garlic butter crescent rolls... (and who knows, maybe some kind of actual vegetable will happen too.)

There may also be deviled eggs. Because yum.

daydreaming of warm

With snow breaking down doors in upstate New York, and all 50 states seeing the below-freezing mark at the same time, and the ridiculous chill we've got going on here, I confess that my writing-muscles are frozen. I don't have anything much to say today besides this:

I wish I lived in San Diego.

Where I could see this every day if I wanted:

And where I could visit Mickey...

And generally not hibernate under the covers and the cats for a minimum of six months a year. I mean, I have the most comfortable bed, and the snuggliest cats, and the prettiest bedroom, but still. As much as I love this, I would rather it be 75 and sunny than -3 and gray.

song in my head

Today's NaBloPoMo prompt from the RevGals is about your go-to-sing-in-the-shower song.

I confess that I rarely sing in the shower, except on Sundays when I use that time as a vocal warmup. But I do have a song in my head most of the time, and over the years I've learned to keep it there rather than humming constantly. (at least, I think I have...those who spend their days with me may think differently!)

There seems to be a rotating playlist for my brain. There are currently three songs that I have noticed in the rotation over the course of today. Well...really there are two constants and then one song that seems to swap out every now and then.

The two most common things my brain seems to sing are: the opening of the Mozart Clarinet Concerto:
 
(this recording is of Robert Marcellus...his interpretive choices are currently out of fashion, but his playing is smooth like buttery velvet or something...I love to listen to him!)

 and the hymn tune Judas Maccabeus ("Thine Is The Glory").


This reality pretty well sums up the entire trajectory of my life...memorizing clarinet repertoire (I'm pretty sure I could still play that concerto in my sleep) and working with hymns.

The third song at the moment is "Defying Gravity" from the musical Wicked.
I'm not 100% sure why that's running the loop, but it is. Could be because it came up on the Sunday morning drive playlist this week, could be because it's the ringtone of one of my favorite people who happened to call me today, or who knows what. Maybe it's that line "dreams the way we planned them, if we work in tandem..." which is, basically, my hope for the church (and I hope the Church doesn't decide to stay behind while the world flies away on a broom!).

Interestingly, my favorite hymn tune ever is St. Columba. I often sing it in the shower on Sunday mornings as a warm-up. But the rest of the time...my brain sings and my mouth stays closed under the cascade of scalding water.








Aside: this past week I've been doing a lot of laundry, so this little ditty is also in my head pretty frequently, mostly in hope of hearing it very soon...

things I should do

We're a third of the way through NaBloPoMo, and today is one of those days I'd be happy to skip. I don't have much to say today, and the prompts aren't calling out any creativity in me either (though the RevGal one was intriguing...while it was light outside. oops.). So today, a blog post about what I actually spend a fair amount of mental energy on:

stuff I should do, but usually don't. A non-exhaustive list:

the dishes
get up at the same time every day
exercise
eat something other than cookies for lunch
play with the cats (like with their feather toy, or other toys)
eat fruit
wash the towels
take out the trash
get the mail
clean my office
anything that looks like a traditional spiritual practice
write a sermon on thursday
shut off Facebook
vacuum
hang up my clothes rather than simply laying them over the closet bar
watch and return Netflix DVDs

That seems like a good enough list for today. The fact that many of these things are related to housework does not escape my notice. My kitchen is currently a disaster, with nearly all the pots, and all the bowls, and all the spoons being dirty at the same time. I'm not really sure what that means for breakfast tomorrow...it might just be coffee and cereal straight from the box.

The RGBP prompt for today was to take a photo out a window, and then write about something you notice in the photo that you didn't notice when just looking out the window. This reminded me of a practice I've been teaching in workshops lately: to notice five new things about the space you're in or the people you're with. In my house, this works beautifully because the fact that I rarely manage to do housework means there's lots of new stuff to notice: that cat fur that makes smily faces where the cat was laying on the carpet, the way the teabag tags lay against the edge of the mug, the precarious yet beautiful way the dishes stack up, the new location of the pen I like to keep handy (Andrew likes oblong objects, so he moves the pens/chapstick/etc to new places. it's useless to stop or resist this.)...

I'm pretty sure I just justified my not-doing-things by making it a part of a spiritual practice of noticing new things. I mean, if my house was clean all the time, and if I actually did all those things on the list, what would I notice? When would I have time to notice?

(something I DO manage to do: rationalize.)

time...zones, change, free, etc

When I went to California a few weeks ago, I felt like my body never quite made the time zone shift.

Until I got home, that is, and proceeded to feel like everything was two hours earlier, which meant I was staying up ridiculously late.

And then the time change happened and plunged mornings back into darkness.

And, just to top that off, I've had something at work every night pretty much since I got home--4 (or even 5) nights each week.

I've been sleeping in and working from home in the mornings, but somehow even when I shift an 8-hour work day to the afternoon and evening, it still ends up feeling like I'm working non-stop with no free time. There's something about having the morning free that feels different than having the evening free.

I think I've narrowed it down to two main things...
1. in the morning, I'm not really off, I'm working but in my pajamas with a cup of coffee and a cat. Whereas in the evening, I'm more likely to be on the couch with a glass of wine or some ice cream and a movie or a book...not checking my email, writing liturgy, etc.
2(a). I miss cooking dinner. For some reason, eating breakfast and lunch and then going to work feels less restful and whole-persony to me than cooking and eating dinner does.
2(b). When I get home late, I still want to eat or read or watch a movie or do something like that, which means I'm not going to bed until late...which is perpetuating my general feeling of tiredness, even if I go to bed at 1 and get up at 8 or 9, it still feels weird to never cook dinner at home.

I don't know how people work that second or third shift, because it turns out I really like to make dinner. Something about that is what makes life feel normal and livable and with enough pause/rest to go to the next day.

is there a thing that makes your day feel "normal" (as opposed to "too full")? What is it?

feeling, thinking, and love

Recently, I had my feelings hurt by some people who, I'm pretty sure, would be appalled to know that they hurt me. (at least, I'd like to think so!)
It took me probably a week to recognize that there was a problem and that this was it.
It took me at least another several days to come up with a way to say it that doesn't sound weird. I'm still struggling with the construction "I had my feelings hurt"...it seems so passive, but then to say "my feelings were hurt" seems so second grade, and to say "some people hurt my feelings" seems so accusatory...
I think we can see why it took so long for my brain to process that my feelings were hurt.

I'm a thinker. I think about things. Some might say I obsess, but I prefer "think." Sounds nicer, less crazy.

Sometimes I think about things for a long time before I feel them. Sometimes I think about things so I don't have to feel them. And sometimes, when I stop thinking for just a moment, I'm surprised when feelings are right there ready to step into the gap.

Last weekend, I went to a David LaMotte concert. I've seen David in concert a number of times over the years (OMG, I think it's been 11 years since the first time...wow), and had him at my previous church to do a workshop and concert on my birthday once, and we've had some conversations over the years, and once I even rented his family's cottage in Montreat for the Youth Conference (it's a great place to stay if you need somewhere to rent in Montreat--great location, very homey, reasonably priced).
David has a way of putting together words, and music, that doesn't leave room for thinking...which meant I spent quite a bit of the evening with a couple of tears in my eyes.

And at the end of the concert, he offered a benediction, with the refrain "You Are Loved" between each line.

I had no idea how much I needed to hear that last week.
(**don't get me wrong: I know I'm loved. I have family and friends and church people who love me. There was just something about the moment that took it from thinking to feeling, is what I mean. So if you're one of those family or friends or church members starting to feel indignant because surely I should know that you love me, don't worry: I know. thanks, and love you too.**)

and then, after the concert was over, the pastor and musician of the church where the concert was held invited me to join them in having a late dinner with David at a local mexican restaurant. I wiffle-waffled for a few minutes (it was late and I was an hour drive from home), but decided to go. I got in the car and pulled up the name of the restaurant on the map, and drove there. And I waited. and waited.
and waited.
I was listening to a podcast, so I didn't notice quite how long it had been (about 10 minutes, it turned out), but I started to have that slight creeping sensation of "they decided on somewhere else and I didn't get the memo, guess I'll just go home" sadness. I brushed it off, telling myself I was insane, and pulled up Facebook while I waited...and there was a message from David, wondering where I was and giving me his phone number so I could find them.
I had, of course, picked the first place on the map-list, but it turned out there were two restaurants with the same name, and they were at the other one.

But more than that, the people had noticed and cared and reached out. When I arrived they were glad to see me, and we had a great time talking and listening--and there was real listening and responding and asking and wondering and laughing. And the difference between that and the other recent experience was like night and day. It was as if these people were living that benediction. And for a moment, I felt first, before I could think about it.

You Are Loved.