practicing compassion :: goodness all the way around

Hi, sweeties. I thought I'd just check in. After my last post, I had a wonderful exchange with my dear, dear friend. She said that if she were in my position, she might possibly be crazy-mad at her husband (in particular), wishing he could (thinking he should) just "fix" everything somehow. I replied how very, very easy it is to want someone to blame when things in our worlds go awry, but that I just can't blame my husband for any of this. Mistakes were made, by both of us, and we are doing the very best that we can to fix them. Also, there's the little fact of simple bad luck, which undoubtedly plays a not-so-small part. I really think that the more difficult, yet undoubtedly more fulfilling path, is to practice compassion, although I couldn't find the words to say it at the time.

Then today I received my periodic email link to Greater Good, and: lo and behold! This is the exact topic of conversation over there. If you are interested, read this, and also (especially) this --including the comments, and let me know what you think. (I find it incredibly wise. I might even order Brene Browne's book--it looks fantastic.)

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Anyhoo. Anyone know what my new little thrifted dish says? Google says "Happiness given is happiness received." Yes? No? I wonder.

Have a beautiful evening...really.

xoxox.

***Update: Sweet Tanja from Switzerland translated it for me like this: "Those who spread happiness will receive happiness." I love it! Thank you so much, Tanja! xo.

promises, promises

Hello, my sweets!  All continues as before;  that is to say, lovely.  Yoshi grows inches each day, and it is very difficult to get a good photo of her because she is always sleeping or "hunting."  Busy, busy girl.

It seems a funny thing to say, but I'm struck by how, if we never moved, we wouldn't have her.  "Funny," in that a little cat is not a huge deal, but she is a symbol of sorts, to me.  Of what we have reached for and attempted and loved that we never would have been able to do, otherwise.  I shake my head often, because moving across the country is something that we fought tooth-and-nail, before committing to it.  (Once we realized we had to sell the house in California, we knew we would move far away, however.  It just seemed easier emotionally that way.  But before accepting the fact that a sale was the only way forward, we did everything within our power to keep our home there.)  And now we are here, in this new world, and it is so good.

We have tried a whole new life, and it is better in almost every single way than our old one.  And I guarantee that a kitten would never, ever have crossed my threshold in our old life.  I just wouldn't have done it.  I wasn't ready or willing to move to the new.

Still, for all that is so good, there is that one issue (read:  financial) that is always lurking in the wings.  And it has to, and it will, until it is resolved.  There is the life of the spirit, where it will "all work out," and then there is the day to day--the car repairs, the orthodontia needed, the rent due ever-so-soon, the fear of illness as a doctor's visit is nearly impossible.  And I struggle, as almost everyone I know does, to reconcile the two.  How to look at your daughters and wonder what they will have to do to pay for college, how to walk away from the cart of groceries that are bagged and ready when your card is declined, how to drive by the police officer and pray that he doesn't pull you over for the expired car registration that you simply can't afford to renew, and hold to your faith?  I don't know.  These are minor problems compared to some, but they are my day to day, and it wears on me, two years in.

But I do know that we have this little spirit in our home now, and she is like a promise to me, in my mind.  She is the real-life, real-time proof that if I stretch and reach, and if I swallow my fears, love and peace will come.  Silly?  Perhaps.  But we find our strength in all kinds of places.  We just never know.

Anyway, life proceeds, spring is so close, and we hold on.  What is the alternative?  It doesn't signify, my dears.  Not at all.

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Linky bits that I loved this week:

:: a spectacularly passionate defense of the value of an awesome teacher.  Made me get myself out the door this morning, when I *really* didn't want to.

:: spring bunnies from Shannah.  Puts me in mind of all the forsythia in these parts, and that's just a lovely thing.

::  another lovely product from another sweet Shanna:  a Mother Teresa quote to aid Japan.

::  this painting would be the title of this post, if I could figure out how to do that...it's gorgeous.

::  this is awesome.

::  Holly's blog is one of my all-time loves, and no surprise that her new tumblr is rockin' too.  Check it here.

That's all I've got at the mo.  Have a great week, peeps.  Thanks for checking in.

xoxox.

emotional growth

Hello, dearies! Oh, it's lovely to see you...I've not got much on my mind (you'll see why in a moment), so I thought I'd just share some stuff I've been working on or noticing...
My "new" vintage aprons make me very happy. The vintage selection in Virginia is oh-so-much better than in California--one of the many reasons I love it here.A bit of nature showing signs of weathering from the winter (aren't we all?).

Another type-tray...I don't know why I find these so fun, but I do. I think it's 'cause I love tiny things? Plus, since there is a place to put the tiny stuff I love, I don't have to toss them like I'm supposed to. Yay.

Pussy willows! From my own yard!

The suggestion of a headboard over our bed...decal from Shanna Murray.

New vintage embroidery--the colors in it make me smile--kind of a hint of the old house, I guess. And for the price, that's a very good thing.

And this. A project I've been envisioning for a while, still not complete. I love this print, and would have purchased it back in the day, but I'm not that gal anymore. Then I saw this, from the amazingly talented Abbey, and thought of some old natural blocks my kids don't use anymore (kinda like these) and I couldn't bear to give away. A simple paint-pen, and there you have it.

They just need a good coating of lemon oil, and on the wall they go! Nearly free, which rocks.

And here is the big news, and the emotional growth I referenced in the post title: we got a kitten! She was purchased from a shelter here in Roanoke, and I love her. Her name is Yoshi, which is "lucky" in Japanese, and she has us all (my husband in particular--the word he uses is "inseparable") wrapped around her cute little paws. See?:

I mean, really.

Okay, I'm done. I promise not to do this too often. But life is good.

Thanks for reading!

xoxox.

reaching

Hello, my dears! 

Signs of spring are springing!...Color in the landscape (bits of green) and buds peeking out, shyly.  Amazing.  I've never been witness to a real spring before (California lass, born and bred) and this is truly magical.  And it's only just begun!

No doubt inspired by the changing seasons, I thought this week a lot about--how to say it?--growth?  Rebirth?  Never-giving-up-ness?

Being on the other side of forty myself (just barely, but there you go), I find I often entertain thoughts of doing something, trying something, or being something new, and then wanting to push it away, as if it is somehow "too late."  I have to catch myself at that all the time.  For one thing, forty ain't that bad.  Yes, some stretches in the morning are necessary for shoe-tying, and I have to watch my diet a lot closer than I'd like, but on the whole, I'm still pretty vital, I think.  (My daughter fears that I will break into dance in public as I am wont to do in the privacy of our kitchen, but I only let her think that for leverage, really.  I would no sooner dance in public than bungee jump off the nearest suspension bridge.) 

Still, though, I have to give myself a push, to consider further education, to take up gardening, to even try a new author, sometimes.  It's crazy, really, no?  I remember reading oh, so long ago, a quote by Ann Landers (or Dear Abby or one of those prim siblings) that you might as well, at the ripe age of 50, say, go to college.  Why ever not?!  You are going to be four years older sometime, right?  You may as well have a degree!  (They said it better, but you get the point, I think.) 

And it's true.  We can wish we had done it all sooner, tried it and mastered it by now.  But really, if you aren't trying, you may as well just give up.  The trying is what invigorates us.  Look at any toddler or teenager (they are very much the same, I think) mastering his new world--the unadulterated joy it brings--and tell yourself that it isn't why we are here.  To learn, to challenge ourselves and each other, to grow and love in new ways, always.

Our family, it must be admitted, has had a whole bunch of "new" this year. If I really wished, I could probably be excused from trying fresh paths, at least for a bit.  But I'm not, and they are not.  It's just not in us to sit and watch...it feels sad, to me, to not be reaching to be stronger, kinder, more aware.  It just does.

So this year, starting with the spring, I'm going to reach for the following, and I hope to chart bits of my progress here:

::  to continue to learn how to teach my girls to be the strongest, most compassionate, most clearly loved young women I've ever met.  I frequently find myself seeing things I wish I had learned earlier, to pass on to them, wishing I had taught them more, sooner.  But it's not even remotely too late, I know.  They need me now more than ever.

::  to plant some seeds and watch them grow.  A small garden plot lies just across our gravel path, and I've big plans.  I don't expect most of them to work, not this year anyway.  But it will be a learning process, and I cannot wait.

::  to cook more, to bake more, to appreciate the process of creating in the kitchen, and to enjoy it more with my children and family.  To challenge myself to see the preparation of food as an expression of love, rather than a chore.

::  to absorb all that I can about Montessori education, because I truly feel that this is the tiny way I am called to be of service in this hurting world.  We all have a path, and I'm certain this is mine.

::  to continue to challenge myself to be fulfilled by the spiritual and heartfelt exclusively, and through material possessions and outside accolades hardly at all.  It is a daily struggle to not want unceasingly (possessions, praise, ease), but I think, perhaps, the upper hand is mine at last.

::  to not be afraid to read male authors.  I have avoided them for 25 years, and I've realized that I'm missing out.  Girls rock, but boys have lots to say, too.

::  to move more, to breathe the fresh air, and to savor the feeling of the sweet earth passing beneath my feet.  After a long winter of just f***ing trying to stay warm, I can't wait to feel the sun on my skin and my muscles aching from good, honest use...Let's get crackin'!

If you care to, I'd love to hear what's on your list for the changing of the seasons, where ever you may be.  Whatever your age, your circumstances, your gifts--keep reaching, won't you?

Have a beautiful week, sweets!  Thanks for reading.

xoxox.

what we have

Good morning, my friends!  A rainy Sunday, drops pitter-pattering, bran muffins in the oven, girls reading in bed.  Life is good.

Some might say it's crazy that I say that.  After all, my husband is still looking for work, I fail to make a living wage ('though, a true blessing:  I love my job).  No insurance, cars on borrowed time, maintenance-wise;  baby-needs-a-new-pair-of-shoes, yada yada yada.  Times are truly tight--still--and for the foreseeable future.

And yet.  I finished a book this morning (this one, quite lovely) and one of the characters says, with great wisdom:  "We make a life out of what we have, not what we are missing."  So it is that daily I remind myself of all that we hold dear and love...each other, of course;  this startling, scary, beautiful world;  and always, that feathery hope.

I've not blogged for many days now, and during that time I've spent pleasant hours reading other blogs instead.  There wasn't much going on here (at least to look at!) and I'm not crafting or doing bloggy stuff with my kids anymore.  And, my stars--there are so many blogs!  And so many beautiful pictures!  It's truly an abundance of riches out there in blogland, my dears, is it not?  Such incredible ideas and beautiful styling and adorable crafts and activities--really, really smart ones, totally worth visiting and trying!  It all makes me tired just to think of competing, and so I didn't.

What I have to share now is just me, and my journey.  And although I hoped and even believed that we had come out of our particular storm to some sort of haven, that was not the case.  Not because there is no haven--no, not at all.  But because the haven is us, and we had it all along.  Our ruby slippers, if you will.  So I continue to deepen and challenge my faith, and advance and withdraw within the safety of my friendships (which carry me through each and every day, 'though I remain woefully out of touch).  I continue to notice the small things, and I find that it comes so naturally now that I no longer need to photograph them or journal them in tidy little booklets of gratitude--they are just there, and a part of me.  And I am so present in them, that to capture them by camera or pen for later would be to detract from its happening, right here and now.  That feels good, like I'm getting something at last.

The progress comes in tiny little waves, and then retreats, but never as far as the place it started from.  My life is not a recipe, a list to follow with guidelines and instructions that ensure a happy result.  It's more like a child's imaginative playing, growing and developing with each and every movement and word whispered, a tiny world all it's own.  A child cannot know where the game will lead--he hasn't thought that far ahead, nor would he want to, even if he could.  That's not creative or fun, or even true.  Show me someone who knows what's in store for them, and I'll show you someone who is shooting for a target that is simply not there.

Anyway, the rain is stopping and the girls are crawling from their beds, warm and sleepy and hungry.  Hugs will be given and received, and the day will hold beautiful surprises aplenty.  May yours be likewise.

Thanks for stopping by!

xoxox.

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(oh!  stunning paper ring and photo by the incomparable elsita)