Weekend

January 19: Excavation Continues



This is, indeed, the closet from hell. Cover me, I'm going in.


January 20: Building Steward

Tim is our building steward at church for this month. He also was the steward during December. He volunteers for those two, the worst weather, months each year. Almost every Sunday he ends up shoveling snow, dealing with the quirks of an ancient heating system, and various other not-so-fun winter activites. He also helps by fixing things that aren't working properly, carrying large objects up from storage, and getting up on ladders and hanging banners in the sanctuary. All without (much) complaining. He truly has a servant's heart. We are very lucky to have him.

Catching Up

I have such good intentions of posting every day, but life just seems to get in the way sometimes. So here are some catch-up pics from the last few days.

January 16: Disciple





This Bible study is quite a commitment. I've taken it before, many years ago, but it looks different this time. I suppose it's a matter of perspective and a different group of people who are studying it along with me. There's a lot of work involved, but it is very worth it.


January 17: Pass the Baby, Please

Andria's (our choir director) little one, Felicity, joined us for choir practice this week. Of course we were all over her. It's pretty clear that she lives in a musical household: when we weren't singing she would get a little restless, but once the music started she would settle right down.

January 18: Poor Thing!

Amy came home from Kalamazoo last night with a bad case of bronchitis. Poor girl, she is so miserable. There's nothing like coming home, though, to make you feel at least a tiny bit better.

Mark and his Mandolin

January 14: Mandolin




Mark unwinds by playing his mandolin. He's still learning how, but making progress. I like to listen to him play. I love it when someone I love does something they love.

Coffee Hour

January 13: Coffee Hour


Susan and Linda are deep in conversation at coffee hour after church. Susan is such a wise, funny person and Linda is the kind of listener I would like to be. I'm so glad to know both of them!

Like many other churches, mine has a tradition of serving refreshments after the worship service. Such a small thing, but a big thing, too. Who would think that some coffee or juice and a few snacks would be so important in the life of a group of people? But it is.

It's where we connect: we catch up with what happened with each other's week, we take care of "business" (can you help me out with this project I'm working on?, Here's the copy of the article you asked me for, etc.), encourage and validate each other. Oh, and just plain visit. Or get a chance to hold that new baby. It feels like family time.

We take turns hosting, so pretty much everyone gets an opportunity to provide for the rest of the congregation. It's something that I look forward to very much. I get to see everybody!

It's said that God is in the details. It is wonderful how important the little, doable things are to an organization. Or a family. Or an individual. It is encouraging that everyday actions that are within my power to do can have a positive influence on the quality of someone else's existence. Something that I think I'll be keeping in mind.

January 12: Sculpture

I was out today taking pics for a circle journal page I need to get done this weekend (Show Me Where You Live) and I took some photos of the Calder sculpture, Le Grande Vitesse, in our city square. This is an angle that I don't think I've seen portrayed in anything I've seen.

I like it. It seems to portray a feeling of movement that I don't see from other perspectives. I wonder why this angle seems to be so neglected? But I guess that's the beauty of sculpture: we experience it from the point of view that's most meaningful to us.

Lazy, Just Lazy

Janurary 11: Lazy

Topanga and I were lazy today. I can't speak for her, but I slept 12 hours! Not good. Tons of things to get done and there I was in bed. But it was nice.

Getting in My Own Way (Again)

Here I am talking about simplifying, de-cluttering, and so on, and what do I do?

Just the opposite of what I'm trying to achieve! And it's taken me over a week to figure it out.

Along with Project Simplicity, I am also trying to take at least one photo a day with my new digi camera. I figure it will accomplish a few things: I'll learn how to use the thing, I will have a photographic journal of my year, and I'll write at least a few lines every day. So what did I do but start a second blog for those entries!

What was I thinking? One blog is much easier to maintain and simpler. As in less clutter. Which is supposedly my focus this year. Well, I guess simplicity is simple, but not necessarily easy. Especially for some of us!

So I am moving the pic a day over here. Here is yesterday's photo:

January 10: Windy Day

Jasmine seems fascinated by the leaves swirling in the wind. Today was a good day for watching the wind at work. The unseasonably warm weather we've been enjoying is being pushed out to make way for typical January- in- Michigan weather. Although I do like the snow, it has been nice having it a little milder.

Project Simplify, year two

Last year I made a commitment to begin to try and simplify my life.

I chose to focus was on multi-tasking. As in doing less of it. So I could be more present at what I was doing. Through my successes and failures I think I learned to pay more attention. I felt myself becoming more mindful. Mundane things took on more meaning. Everyday things became richer.

This year I'm focusing on decluttering, both physically and mentally. I'll be chipping away, a little at a time. I've been trying to weed at least a few things out every day. So far it's been pretty easy.

But I know that there will be times when it will be painful. I have a tendency to hang on to things. You know, get sentimental about inanimate objects. And I also have a habit of, well, mulling things over. And over. And over.

Here is my first project. I am not proud of how this looks; when I saw the photo I'd taken, I was horrified. And the rest of the space is worse. Much worse.

I'm looking forward to eventually having a neat, organized creative space, with what I need and nothing more. I am also making a mental list of all the clutter in my life I could do away with. This should be an interesting year on my journey to simplicity.

An Equation Settled

I'd like to share a poem I saw awhile back on a message board that I frequent:


The Invention of Fractions

God himself made the whole numbers: everything else is the work of man. —Leopold Kronnecker

God created the whole numbers:
the first born, the seventh seal,
Ten Commandments etched in stone,
the Twelve Tribes of Israel —
Ten we've already lost —
forty days and forty nights,
Saul's ten thousand and David's ten thousand. 'Be of one heart and one mind' —
the whole numbers, the counting numbers.

It took humankind to need less than this;
to invent fractions, percentages, decimals.
Only humankind could need the concepts
of splintering and dividing,
of things lost or broken,
of settling for the part instead of the whole.

Only humankind could find the whole numbers,
infinite as they are, to be wanting;
though given a limitless supply,
we still had no way
to measure what we keep
in our many-chambered hearts.


"The Invention of Fractions" by Jessica Goodfellow, from A Pilgrim's Guide to Chaos in the Heartland. © Concrete Wolf Chapbook Series.



Almost a year ago I bookmarked this poem. I'm not sure of the reason at the time, but I'm glad I did.

A few weeks ago it was my turn to give the devotion at choir practice. At the same time I was feeling some frustration around a choice made by a group of people who are very near to my heart.

I was literally losing sleep over it. I was beginning to feel bitter. For the life of me, I could not figure out why this issue was such a problem for me. Why couldn't I just accept their decision and move on? It certainly wasn't harming me in any real way.


Then I ended up choosing this piece for my devotion. As I read and re-read it, it dawned on me that what was frustrating me was that I felt that the decision made by those people that I love was, in essence, settling for less than they could have. Maybe settling isn't the right word. It seemed more insisting on having less than they could have.

And because I love them, I want better for them.

Once I realized that, I was at peace about it. I could let go, because I was able to name what was bothering me. I also began to think about ways in my own life that I have been or am aiming for less through apathy, fear, or just plain laziness. And it has been easier to be patient with others for doing the same thing.

I am also learning to be grateful for my obligations. If I hadn't been required to present that devotion, I would have missed out on learning something important. I hope that next time I want to complain about something that I have to do, that I can remember to stop and look for the blessing instead.

Sabbath

It never fails to amaze me how things seem to just fall into place to point to something that needs my attention and thought. The more I try to ignore the nudgings, the more persistent they become.

The subject in my bible study this past week was the stories of creation. Every time I read those accounts in Genesis, something different strikes me. This time I was very aware of the pacing, particularly in the first story. Day one, certain things were accomplished. Then there was time of rest, time to declare it "good". Each of six days was like that, with a seventh, entire day of rest.

At another point in the week I was out for a walk as the school bus was was dropping off some children in front of a particular house. The children went their separate ways, with one child walking up the driveway. A woman, who I assumed to be the mom, came out the front door, purse and keys in hand, and they both got in the car and rode away. Now, this is not a judgement on that family,or any family for that matter, but I felt a little sad. I think the reason I did was because I saw a lot of my life in that simple occurence. So often I go from one activity to another with no pause inbetween. Do I appreciate or consider what I have just finished before I jump into another project? Usually not.


Later in the week I ran across a book I haven't picked up in awhile, called Sabbath, Finding Rest, Renewal, and Delight in our Busy Lives, by Wayne Muller. I remember that the first time I read that book, it seemed to really change my thinking. As time went by, however, I got back into the habit of rushing from one thing to another.

There is a lovely little poem in there by Marcia Falk, called Will:


Three generations back
my family had only


to light a candle
and the world parted.


Today, Friday afternoon,
I disconnect clocks and phones.


When night fills my house
with passages,


I begin saving
my life.





Can it be possibly that simple, just decide to do it, unplug and claim some Sabbath time?

What would my life be like if I disciplined myself to accomplish a certain amount, then stop and be thankful for what was done? To actually enjoy what came of my labor?

And even more outrageous, what if I set aside one day a week to enjoy my loved ones, to spend time in my favorite places, to do creative things, or just to, dare I say it, rest and reflect?

Would I lose more than I gain?

Somehow I don't think so.

I Am What I Am

I'm coming clean. I will not try to hide it or deny it any more. I am:

• Chubby
• Rubenesque
• Overweight
• Portly
• Obese

Yes, I am. In the past I have been thinner. I have dieted, exercised, and devoted most of my waking hours to make myself smaller that I think I'm intended to be. I have flirted with bulemia. (I remember taking my daily 5 mile walk during a tornado warning because "no stinking storm is going to make me get fat again".)

And at the time I liked it. I looked good, I found shopping for clothing almost pleasant, and people were nicer to me.

But age, genetics, anti-depressants (and that may be a whole other post), psychological factors, and just plain old laziness have all contributed to my present weight. A number I will only disclose under extreme torture.

I have always obsessed about my weight. It seems that my self esteem and the number I see on the scale have an inverse relationship. If I had a dollar for every time I told myself, "I would wear that/go there/do that if I was thin", I would be a rich woman.

Awhile back I came across something on YouTube that got me thinking a little. It's called A Fat Rant. Here is the link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yUTJQIBI1oA

I've got to say, this woman rocks! I love her attitude, her spirit. She doesn't let something as superficial as our predominant culture's opinion of physical appearance get in the way of living her life. No excuses. Get on with it already. It reminds me of that Big Boned Girl song. Or that wonderful poem, "Ode to My Hips".

It is easy in this day and age to feel ashamed of not fitting the popular image of what is beautiful, particularly if you happen to be female.

And shame is an ugly thing. Alice Walker defines it as an injury to the soul. Maybe, just maybe, it isn't how some of us look, but rather, how we feel about ourselves that is unattractive.

Perhaps if our souls were allowed to heal, if we saw ourselves as our Creator sees us, full of beautiful possibilities, we could make peace with, and nurture our bodies. And that, I think, is truly beautiful.

I've Got a Gal in Kalamazoo

Again. As of yesterday, when her brother and I moved her into her dorm room to start her sophomore year.

When we arrived to her room, her roommate's dad was already there, laying some carpeting. The room seemed microscopic. If I had to guess I would have to say that the dimensions of the space is about eleven by twelve. Maybe.

Amy and Chrissy looked at each other and one of them said,"I think the room we had last year was bigger." It was obvious that two beds, two chests of drawers, two desks, a futon, a mini refrigerator, a microwave, a television and all the gear that comes along with two nineteen year old females were not going to fit into that room.

I had some ideas about what to do, and I'm sure her parents did also, but we all just kept it to ourselves while the girls worked it out.

Eventually, through some sacrifices on both girls' parts and some decisons about what they each really needed to have with them, everything they decided to keep fit very nicely in the room. I was proud of the girls for working it all out like adults; almost as proud as I was of the adults for letting them do so.

When Mark and I left, the room looked very cozy and they were busy putting everything away while catching up with each other.

Amy's roomate's mom and sister cried. I did not. But today, things at home felt strange. You know that feeling you have when there's something you think you've forgotten? Or that itch in the middle of your back that you just can't reach?

It will get better. We will fall into our routines and when she comes home on breaks we'll all have an adjustment period. It's the way things are, the way things always have been, the way they were meant to be. Part of growing up. For all of us.

I Say Potato....

My "beach read" this past vacation was a book called The Introvert Advantage by Marti Olsen Laney. A nice, quick read, nothing too heavy, but something that made me sit up and think.

The author says that we all basically are either extroverted (outies) or introverted (innies). Our predominant culture tends to value the extrovert's traits (go-getter, breadth of experience, high energy) over the introvert's ones (slower pace, depth of experience, hanging back a bit before joining in). Also, there are more extroverts than introverts; about a 3:1 ratio.

So if you're an "innie", and especially if you grew up in a family of extroverts, you may think there is something basically wrong with you. You don't fit in. You're slow. You're boring. You're anti-social. And so on.

Well, this book was good news to me. Affirmation that I am not wrong, merely different. I have suspected this for the past few years, but I was more sure after reading the book. I think I want to send Ms. Laney flowers!

I thought about my relationships, particulary the ones closest to my heart: my husband, my daughter, my mom. They are all extroverts to the nth degree. I am finding myself being more patient with them lately, and understanding their impatience with me. I also know why my son and I seem to get along so well. It is not that he's my favorite (as my daughter claims), but that we are pretty much on the same page.

The world needs both kinds of people. All "innies", and we wouldn't get anything done. All "outies", and we would flit from one thing to another without thinking things through. We are all valuable; we are all necessary.

Vive le difference!

Vacation

A home away from home.

Time with family and friends.

A good place.

Be back in a week.

Blessed Are They

Green was only green, shades
of darker and lighter, before
the quilt was finished.
Afterward innumerable hues sprang
from every Leaf, Blade, and Fern.

Cutting piecing, sewing, joining
sides together compels
the eye to distinguish
Cedar, Spruce, Fir,
Grasses great with seed.


The Heart then learns to honor
the strength of Stem and Leaf
beneath the blossom’s boast.




My friend, Elaine, once said,"Until I started quilting I never noticed how many different shades of green there are."

That remark, made in an offhand manner, stuck with me and eventually inspired a poem. The first, I might add, that I have written in a couple of years. I believe that little comment is an important one for me.

It is so easy to be bored with the little chores and errands that make up a greater portion of most of our lives. It is easy to rush through them, to treat them as if they don't matter in the big picture. It is easy to feel unimportant when our work is unnoticed, not glamorous, and unapplauded.

But I believe with all my heart that every mundane chore, every inconvenient errand, every unappreciated kindness that we perform comes with its own reward, or blessing, if you will. And that blessing is the opportunity to be a little more mindful of all the wonderful things around us. All the overlooked, yet essential things that surround us. And to feel blessed, cared for, and valuable beyond measure.

Ubuntu

Archbishop Tutu writes:

"Ubuntu is the essence of being human, it speaks of the fact that my humanity is inextricably linked to yours. I belong because I am human. It speaks about wholeness and it speaks of compassion. A person who is with Ubuntu is welcoming, hospitable, warm, generous and willing to share. Such people are open and available to others, willing to be vulnerable, affirming of others, do not feel threatened that others are able and good, for they have proper self assurance that comes from knowing they belong to a greater whole. They know that they are diminished when others are humiliated, diminished when others are oppressed, diminished when others are treated as less than who they are. The quality of Ubuntu gives people resilience, enabling them to survive and emerge, still human despite all efforts to dehuminize them."


Some friends and I recently were discussing this passage, among other subjects. The word Ubuntu was also included in Sunday's sermon at church this past week.

A coincidence? Maybe, maybe not.

So I've been thinking about this new to me word. And wondering.

What would the world look like if we all practiced Ubuntu? How would things work? What would happen if we all genuinely wanted each other to succeed, if indeed, our well being depended on the well being and success of our fellow human beings?

Is it possible? I believe so.

Is it probable. I don't know.

And then, the more difficult part. I have been wondering what my personal life would look like if I practiced Ubuntu. Without waiting for someone else to do it first.

How would my conduct with my family differ from what it is now? How about with my friends? Or in my working life?

What would my gains and losses be? More importantly, what would be the advantages and disadvantages to those around me? Finally, am I ready to change, to take such risk?

Something to think about. Indeed.

A New Thing

Eleanor Roosevelt once said, "You must do the thing you think you cannot."

For the last few years, I have been trying, in small ways, to do just that. As an experiment.

• I had a driving phobia, so I drove from Michigan to Arizona.
• I was 50 pounds overweight and a total couch potato, so I went to hiking camp for a week in the Adirondacks.
• I never, ever let anyone see anything I wrote, so I submitted some poems to to online magazines and to a poetry contest in my home town.
• I was terrified of public speaking, so I signed up as a liturgist at church and one Sunday I even preached a sermon.

So far the experiment seems to be going well. So here's another challenge.

I will make friends with technology.
I will reveal more of myself to the world than I'm used to doing.
I will even invite feedback, and if it hurts my feelings, well so be it. And if nobody cares, well, at least I'm mastering the technology part in a small way.

So here goes. I will share some thoughts, some photos, poetry, and whatever else occurs to me. And I will be brave about it.