Tag: living

Widening the Circle of Compassion

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“Our task must be to free ourselves by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature and its beauty.” – Albert Einstein

On Monday night after the kids went to bed, I was outside in my pajamas wearing my hat with the built-in head lamp sorting through the dirt of a terrarium. In a moment of sanity, I thought, “What the eff am I doing?”

On one level, it was easy to understand what I was doing. I was trying to find our pet snail after the terrarium accidentally slid off the shelf when five-year-old Mr. D tried to put it up. We’d cleaned up the dirt and put it back in the terrarium but didn’t see Snail-D, also known as Gary, when we did. Since it happened during the middle of dinner time and on bath night, we hadn’t had time to return to try to see if he’d survived the fall.

So maybe the better question was why was I doing it? I have a limit to how much I can do in a day. I often say that I’m off the clock after the kids go to bed. It’s when I finally get some downtime. While I will sometimes do the dishes, I try to be pretty good about just having a cup of tea and reading a book.

We hadn’t intended to adopt another creature but Mr. D discovered Gary the snail crawling up the side of our entertainment center. He must have come in on the cat’s coat. So, it seemed like he’d found us and Mr. D was really excited about having his own “pet.” I didn’t think we’d manage to keep him alive for a day. But now, a month later, Gary seems to be thriving.

Until the accident, at least. I have to admit, I have come to sort of like Gary. He’s pretty social anytime the kids get him out of his terrarium. And he eats all my left-over lettuce.

But I suspect that the real reason I spent my me-time on Monday night looking through the dirt for Gary was because life is precious and precarious. Deep down I know the conditions of my life could change because of an accident or because of the whim of a whacky autocrat.

So helping others, even mollusks, also helps me to feel better.

You’ll be happy to know that Gary survived.

(featured photo is Gary before the accident)

You can find me on Instagram @wynneleon and LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/wynneleon/

I co-host a storytelling podcast featuring authors and artists with the amazing Vicki Atkinson. To tune in, search for Sharing the Heart of the Matter on Spotify, Apple, Amazon Music or Pocketcasts (and subscribe) or click here. Or the YouTube channel features videos of our interviews. Please subscribe!

My other projects include work as a CEO (Chief Encouragement Officer), speaking about creativity and AI through the Chicago Writer’s Association, and my book about my journey to find what fueled my dad’s indelible spark and twinkle can be found on Amazon: Finding My Father’s Faith.

Two Stories About Death

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“Death is more universal than life; everyone dies but not everyone lives.” – Alan Sachs

I was going to publish something else today — but then I found this post written three years ago and never published in my drafts folder. Who can argue with a post that’s already written?

Story 1

Last weekend my friend Eric and I took the kids on a long bike ride. My toddler was in a bike seat behind me and my six-year-old daughter was on a third wheel bike attached to Eric’s. It was a gorgeous fall morning with moderate temperatures, colorful fall leaves, not too many clouds and we biked five miles to a marina on the waterfront where we met my brother and sister-in-law.

Along the route we’d seen a draw bridge go up, a police car, all sorts of interesting people getting ready for a breast cancer benefit race. So when my daughter said to my brother, “Guess what we saw on the way here?” I was surprised by her answer, “A dead bunny.”

And we had seen a dead bunny about 4 blocks from home.

Story 2

One of my mom’s friends is moving back to Utah. She’s 97-years-old and lived in Seattle for at least 15 but she told my mom that she’s moving back because her husband is buried there. She looked up how expensive it was to transport a body after someone died. Apparently, it’s costly so she decided to move so she’s nearby the cemetery when she passes.

Conclusion

I don’t think it’s much of a stretch to say that perhaps the very young and the very old have a frankness when talking about death that is harder to find in middle age.

The Coming Radiance

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I’m not sure how many of you also followed Martha Hendricks of the White Hair Grace blog so forgive me for introducing someone you might already know. But for anyone who wasn’t, Martha was an 80-year-old blogger with non-Hodgkins lymphoma and sharing the stories of getting old gracefully. She had a lot of roles in her life. In her words, she was “professional classical singer; a Norwegian rosemaler; a pastor. And now a writer. “

I say “was” because she passed away this past August. But not before penning an incredible post that is as much about living as it is dying. So I’m reblogging this beautiful writing from an lovely woman:

whitehairgrace's avatarwhite hair grace

Dear friends, I am Martha’s eldest son posting these final words that mom felt she needed to share. She wrote this post August 12th, but didn’t publish it. My mom passed away peacefully, surrounded by her family this past Sunday, August 21st. She so loved writing this blog and sharing her life with all of you. Thank you all for the joy you gave her. She is with her beloved Dwight once again.

“Learning to be still, to be really still, and let life happen – that stillness becomes radiance.”

Morgan Freeman

My dear readers and followers – Hello again! Surprise!

When I wrote my last blog in May and closed out my White Hair Grace page, I thought that my work of seeking out the miracles of grace had reached a kind of natural conclusion. Of course, the best of intentions meet up with life’s larger plans, and here…

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Just Say Yes

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“Respond to every call that excites your spirit.” – Rumi

A couple of months ago when my high school friend generously offered me and my family a free place to stay in Vail, Colorado for 4 nights, I didn’t think about it much and just said “yes.” Now my little family and my friend Eric have made our way here. It took us 10 hours of car, bus, airplane, bus, and car transport to get here but we made it.

Then we walked in to a place so fancy I have trouble believing it’s a vacation place. If all the coffee mugs match and the appliances are not cast offs from some other home, it somehow doesn’t match with my image of vacation accommodations. But I have proof that we are on vacation, because I’m saying “yes” to most everything.

“Mom, can we stay up late?” – YES

“Can we make s’mores out by the fire pit tonight?” – YES

“Will you go swimming with us in an outdoor (heated) swimming pool when it’s 50 degrees out?” – YES

“Can I put this dirty brown snow in my mouth?” – NO

Okay, so I’m not saying yes to everything. But I’m finding that this adventure is all about living life without the rules and schedules that mark life at home.

And the effect has been to shake off the sliver of patina that grows between our hearts and living on a regular basis. Getting everything done in a day means keeping a bit of wildness in check and not listening to where our adventurous souls want to go.

Now we have a couple more days of leaving behind the rules and finding our natural rhythm close to nature and close to each other. As long as it doesn’t break any matching coffee mugs, I’m up for saying “yes” for just about anything today.

What are you saying “yes” to today?

Living Life

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“Life is what happens to you when you are busy making other plans.” – John Lennon

This morning as I was enjoying my treasured quiet moments to do yoga, meditate and write, I saw that we still had the croquet wickets set up in the back yard. Before I sat down to write, I thought I’d better go pick them up. I went out the back yard, triggered the house security alarm, woke the kids up and caused the complete opposite of quiet.

So as I was cursing my stupidity and ruing that I had cut my own quiet time short, I picked up my toddler and we went into my daughter’s room and spent a delightful half hour, snuggling, calming down, telling stories, playing peek-a-boo, thumb wrestling. And once I forgave myself enough to accept the change of plans delivered directly from the Universe, I experienced a moment of pure truth that no experience is wasted.

It reminded me never to get too busy writing about life so that I miss living life.