Tag: love

Celebrating Independence

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“Time has a wonderful way of showing us what really matters.” – Margaret Peters

It’s Independence Day in America. Which is of course about the country and not about me but it makes me think about the long history I have with the word independence.

Independence was one of the most prized attributes a kid could have in my family. I wonder if that’s because I am the youngest of three and my mom was busy trying to find out how to best challenge her very smart brain within the confines of being a minister’s wife and a mother of three kids. If I’d ask for a ride, she’d hand me the bus schedule. If I wanted her to play tennis with me, there was a certain amount of practice I had to do on my own before I’d qualify.

Then there was the college boyfriend who broke my heart for the first time. He had introduced me to the poem, Comes the Dawn by Veronica Shoffstall that includes the lines, “So you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul, Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.” In my bereft state after we split apart, I remember those lines popping into my head as the best idea of independence I’d ever heard.

So when I was 30-years-old and wanted to buy a house, I was dating a guy whose only contribution to the effort was a list of the neighborhoods he’d like to live in. He clearly wasn’t the right one for me and I knew I could do it independently so I broke up with him and did.

Then my father came over and taught me so many of the skills I would need to own a home: tiling, replacing a toilet, installing crown molding. On one of our projects to dry wall a room, we couldn’t finish before he had to leave so he helped me build a system of platforms so I could finish independently. He knew I couldn’t wait until he had time to return.

 When I got married in my mid-30’s, one of my husband’s complaints about me was that I was so independent. He could say the word so harshly that the last syllable cracked like a whip. It stung because I had always thought that was one of most prized qualities, after all my parents thought it was. And wow, he seemed so needy to me which might have been one of his qualities that led him to be unfaithful.

So we got divorced and even though I’d refused to have kids when I was married, I wanted them now that I was alone and 45-years-old. I went to a fertility clinic and found out that I could have them independently and so, I did!

Now I have two beautiful kids and am wondering if independence will be once of the most prized traits that I teach them. The mirror of introspection tells me that my version of independence might be an avoidance of vulnerability. I have an inkling that my greatest strength might also be my greatest weakness.

It’s taken me half a lifetime to realize that there is a fine line between independence and isolation, something that applies to both me as an individual and us collectively as a country. Believing that you don’t need anyone else to help solve your problems only tends to increase the size of the problems that you need to solve. Like climate change. Or world peace. So on this Independence Day, I celebrate the kind of independence that comes with the knowledge that we need others to be our best selves!

The Price of Anticipation

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“Too many of us are not living our dreams because we are living our fears.” – Les Brown

My mom invited my five-year-old daughter over for a sleep over at her apartment this weekend. Her place is air conditioned and she had a ton of fun plans like piano lessons and songs to wake up to. My daughter was so excited. Mostly because Nana’s apartment is a place full of treasures that she hasn’t been able to visit during this pandemic but also because her friend that is just a little bit older at 7-years-old is always talking about sleepovers. What a thrill! But then my mom had to cancel because she lives in a retirement community and they reinforced the message that no children under the age of 16-years-old are allowed, even if they don’t go into any common areas. My daughter was so disappointed! She said to me, “I’m just going to expect that good things get canceled.”

Of all the emotions, disappointment seems the easiest to avoid. As my daughter said, you can just expect good things won’t happen, right? It only means giving up anticipation. The feeling of waking up in the morning, remembering what you are going to do today and feeling, “yay!” because it’s something fun.

But what about love then? Is it tempting to decide not to love because the feeling of heartbreak is too crushing to endure? Or what about hope? Giving up the tug that we can, will and might just be lucky enough make our lives better just in case we fail?

All of my favorite emotions have their shadow side. I’ve struggled with trying not to feel any of those and come away worse for the wear. As the brilliant writer, Ashley C. Ford said in a podcast I heard a couple of months ago, “I tried to live a disappointing life so that I wouldn’t ever be disappointed.”

I’m finally understanding the idea of leaning in towards life instead. When getting a little off tilt, leaning forwards, not backwards. But my daughter’s disappointment this weekend made me realize that while I have been practicing that for myself, I’ve been doing the opposite with my kids. I often don’t tell them about things that might be canceled so that they don’t get disappointed. I hold myself as a back stop for all their possible shadow side feelings. As is so often the case, having kids has given me another level of practice. I can still lean forwards with my kids in my arms, ready for joy and also holding them in disappointment.

Strong Back, Soft Front

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“Do small things with great love.” – Mother Teresa

Last night we returned from a small outdoor party right at my son’s bedtime. I went to take off his shoes and socks and start to get him ready for bed and he was lying on the couch, head on the pillows, looking very much like a little grown man taking a load off after a long day. When I told him it was time to get his jammies on and stooped to pick him up he said, “No tank ooo.” At 23 months “no thank you” is his most powerful phrase and although I’d never claim that he fully understands the politeness of it, it’s still quite effective.

It makes me think of a phrase I first heard used by Brene Brown, “strong back, soft front” but I believe was originated by Roshi Joan Halifax, a Buddhist teacher. Strong back, as I think it relates to parenting, is all the things I try to hold the line on to raise healthy, happy and kind children. Bedtimes, self-care, routines, boundaries with each other, politeness. They are all the things that I feel like I repeat over and over again until I hope they pick them up for themselves.

And while I’m doing that, my soft front is so often moved by the sweet little things they do, their cries when life gets too much, and the moments of pride when they show they are learning something I’ve said. It’s my soft heart that gets opened over and over again by the bravery, dignity and earnestness of little people.

The thing I’ve noticed about parenting with a strong back, soft front is that dichotomy keeps me upright in those moments when I’m out of my depth. Either I’m too tired or too confounded by a situation that is challenging me, I can hold both ideas to create a balance that will see me through. I can be overwhelmed by my love and empathy AND still have the wherewithal to get my kids to bed.

Which is what I did last night. I stopped and talked with my toddler for a minute about the day, I listened to his “no tank ooo’s” and then I scooped him up to go upstairs and read.

NOTE: For anyone interested in a great description of strong back, soft front, I found this post by Bev Janisch that includes content from Brene Brown and a guided meditation.

The Gift of Appreciation

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“You have to participate relentlessly in the manifestations of your own blessings.” – Elizabeth Gilbert

For my 14th birthday, I gave myself a kitten. My dad said he didn’t like cats after he was attacked by a wild one when he was young and studying abroad in India. So I came up with a ruse to get a kitten, box it up and put it on the porch as an anonymous gift to myself. When my dad opened the door on my birthday to get the paper, he found an empty gift on the porch – and then hanging off the side of the porch was a little black kitten. He scooped it up, put it in the garage, called me down to talk about it – and we kept it!

That story became part of our family lore. Especially because I had gotten the kitten from a parishioner in the church my dad was Sr. Pastor of and so it was only a matter of a day or so until he found out where the kitten came from and who was responsible. But laughing about it now, I also think there is some genius to giving ourselves the thing we want most for our birthdays. It means naming what we most need instead of relying on others to figure it out.

For me, that’s appreciation. Appreciation for my body, mind and soul that has carried me this far.

I am so thankful for my body. It’s not perfect but it woke up this morning. I’ve abused it, pushed it past it’s limits at times but it has carried me through many adventures and produced two children. It is a mystery of how it continues to work no matter how much crappy fuel, lack of care and big challenges it has faced but it is my engine and I’m grateful.

I am so thankful for my mind. It’s not perfect but it’s teachable. It allows me to remember all the people who have shaped me. From my parents who conceived, carried and raised me to the countless friends, family and mentors who have come beside me, and even the few people who have been oppositional forces in my years, I have learned so much. My mind has figured out how to navigate the circumstances set before it and jot down notes for other travelers along the way and I’m grateful.

I am so thankful for my spirit and soul. It’s not perfect but it knows love.  It is my cup of sunshine that fills every day and rests and restores every night. As the seat of openness to Divine Love and Universal Truth, it has been my way to wisdom and joy. I’ve finally attuned an ear to listen to its guidance and although I frequently take side routes, it calls me back again and again and I’m grateful.

As I wrap this gift of appreciation, I am most grateful for the Divine Spark that has breathed life into me and all those around me! Wow, do I feel lucky!

Abundance

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“Go into yourself and see how deep the place is from which your life flows.” – Rainier Maria Rilke

Last night we had a family party to celebrate birthdays for my mom and me. My daughter had very carefully planned what to wear – a pink dress with a delicate white cardigan and was getting dressed when she asked me what her brother was going to wear. When I told her that he was wearing his Hawaiian shirt which is pretty much the only button down shirt he has, she said disappointedly, “Awww, everyone is going to say ‘wow, what a cute baby.’ “

I gulped because there was something so familiar in her small complaint. Doesn’t it always seem like someone else at a party has it easier? Someone who navigates the introductions, conversations and transitions without anxiety. Someone who naturally draws the attention and even if I don’t want to be the center of attention, it’s hard not be just a little bit envious.

This weekend I listened again to the On Being podcast with Krista Tippett and Yale sociologist Nicholas Christakis. He made the point that for us to be social, we have to be individual. That is to say, to be able to recognize each other we have to notice the differences between us. Otherwise, the mom feeds the wrong baby or we can’t tell which person is our friend.

But it seems like we pay a price for always noticing differences. It breeds comparison, competition and envy. It fosters the feeling of scarcity because someone else always has more. Speaking personally, it takes a lot of continual work to overcome the system and rest assured that I have enough love, possessions and worth. That might be in a nutshell what drives me back to faith – to find the unity and Divine love that is common to all of us.

I didn’t have any words for my daughter’s comment. I gave her a big hug and we went to the party. She was right, that was exactly what everyone said about her brother. But she made herself useful and got plenty of attention. Better than anything I could say was the experience that there is more than enough love to go around, we just have to show up to feel it.

Eat, Play, Love: Part III

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“The one thing we can never get enough of is love. And the one thing we never give enough of is love.” – Henry Miller

Intro: I had a beloved golden retriever named Biscuit who in addition to being a goofy, energetic, enthusiastic and LOYAL friend was an old soul. In his older years I started taking his picture with signs. Although it’s my writing and initiative, these were somehow his words in a way I can’t explain. He’s been gone four years and in a tribute to him on his birthday, here’s a book we wrote. Eat, Play, Love.

Back to chapter 1: Eat

Back to chapter 2: Play

Chapter 3: Love

Eat, Play, Love: Part II

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“Creative people are curious, flexible, persistent, and independent with a tremendous spirit of adventure and a love of play.” – Henri Matisse

Intro: I had a beloved golden retriever named Biscuit who in addition to being a goofy, energetic, enthusiastic and LOYAL friend was an old soul. In his older years I started taking his picture with signs. Although it’s my writing and initiative, these were somehow his words in a way I can’t explain. He’s been gone four years and in a tribute to him on his birthday, here’s a book we wrote. Eat, Play, Love.

Back to chapter 1: Eat

Chapter 2: Play

Chapter 3 – Love

Eat, Play, Love: Part I

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“One of the secrets of a happy life is continuous small treats.” – Iris Murdoch

Intro: I had a beloved golden retriever named Biscuit who in addition to being a goofy, energetic, enthusiastic and LOYAL friend was an old soul. In his older years I started taking his picture with signs. Although it’s my writing and initiative, these were somehow his words in a way I can’t explain. He’s been gone four years and in a tribute to him on his birthday, here’s a book we wrote. Eat, Play, Love.

Chapter 1:

Chapter 2: Eat

The Measure of My Love

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“A heart that loves is always young.” – Greek Proverb

Last Monday my five-year-old daughter handed me a dollar bill, a nickel and a dime and told me she was giving it to me because that’s how much she loves me. I was completely unprepared with a response other than “thank you” and “wow, that’s so kind!” Not to suggest that a response other than “thank you” in that moment was appropriate but it did make me think of telling her that my love doesn’t cost anything and that she should save her money.

At the time, she had $20 so it was about 5% of her liquid assets. Since I was going down that rabbit hole, I wondered if I give her 5% of my liquid assets. (What liquid assets? I don’t have any because I have children!) Isn’t it interesting how tempting it is to quantify? And once quantifying, the next question becomes “Do I have enough love?” When it comes to both love and money when asked any question with the word “enough” in it, the only thing my mind does is look for what it lacks.

When I check in with my heart though, it feels full. And I know because at the end of the day when both of the kids are in bed and I’m turning out the lights for the night, I have this feeling that my whole heart is in this house. And also in this year of having to operate in a pod, it has given me so much appreciation for the family and friends who are such a regular part of my life. And for the ones I haven’t gotten to see, I have gained the perspective of distance to cherish them and our shared history better.

So as my head is doing weights and measures, my heart is busy feeling the tender moments, like the one where my daughter is finding a way to express her love. How often do I let my head tell me what it thinks it knows without checking in with the key part that actually does know?

Once I work my way back to my heart, I find the quality of my life. And that is a feeling of wholeness and wealth which feels like the Truth of where I am and want to operate from. Which is good, because shortly after my daughter gave me $1.15 to show how much she loved me, my mom came over and my daughter gave her a dollar bill and two quarters to show her how much she loves her. 😊

Always in My Boat

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“Smooth seas do not make skillful sailors.” – anonymous

This morning I was trying to put shoes on my toddler. I got one on before he starting running around the kitchen island. It started a game where we were chasing each other and hugging when we collided. My five-year-old daughter got in the mix and I stopped running just to watch them run, collide and hug. A moment of pure fun and joy.  

In my twenties I dated a man who had rowed crew for the University of Washington. His stories of teamwork and precision were beautiful. If I close my eyes, I can still see the images painted in my head. On a calm, still morning at the break of dawn, 8 rowers carrying a shell down to the water with the coxswain giving directions, they flip the boat and lower it in to Lake Washington. Once they are all in with the coxswain nestled in the front, they take up their oars and in perfect rhythm set off across the smooth surface as the morning mist swirls around them. The cox calls directions and timing. Stroke, feather, stroke.

I’ve been picturing my family as a rowing team. Each of my kids is a rower and I am the cox, at least for this phase in life. We get up every morning and do our best to row across the expanse of the day. Each of us has a part and some days we are in sync and glide smoothly.

And then on some days, one or both of my little rowers or I have a fit which I liken to catching a crab. That’s rower lingo for when the blade goes into the water at the wrong time for the momentum of the boat and results in the oar driving hard into the rower, perhaps even knocking them out. It’s a hard moment for everyone in the boat and we have to take stock as to whether we keep rowing until they can get back into the rhythm or stop to help them center themselves again. Because we are a team and no team gets good without practicing together.

We also have to take into consideration the conditions outside. Right now as we transition back to in-person activities, it feels like the lake is choppy and it’s hard to hold the boat steady. It’s also when we have to set our expectations that we won’t be going as far or as fast until conditions improve.

I like this analogy because it helps me see the long view of life and my family. For now they are in my boat but someday they’ll have their own boats and I’ll be a rower for them. And then of course, I’ll be gone and then they’ll have to close their eyes to see me pulling for them as I do with my dad and the feeling that he’s always in my boat.

Because what is the boat? I think of it as anything that keeps us above water. For me it is Faith and it makes it so much easier to stay afloat in the reassurance there is a Higher Power so much bigger than me. I step into the boat trusting that a master craftsman has constructed it to be sound and for the best rowing experience in both still and choppy water.

This morning as we ran around the island, my daughter caught my son and hugged him long enough for me to get that second shoe on. We took that instant to stop, hug each other and laugh. I felt the prayer in my heart, “Thank you for this beautiful and easy moment that gives us momentum to glide through all the others.”