After Mom was reunited with her O! Best Beloved, Louise offered to clear out her room. One thing that drew her attention was how many journals I'd given Mom over the years; she'd write in the for several entries, then stop. And I'd give another one. Louise wasn't so interested in Mom's starting, then stopping, but in the hope I showed in my gift of yet another.
I always felt that Mom had a priceless voice that needed to be heard by others. Without even realizing it was happening, that's what we accomplished in her Mindwalker1910 e-mails, but it never dawned on me at the time.
At the end October 2012, I'm realizing more & more how like Mom I am - there are so many journals scattered through the house that I've written in, some (not many) completely, but I've yet to take the step of LIVING them. That's what they are for - not for writing exercises or life legacy stories, but as hand-holds to help me climb the face of my present life to the summit, where I can hoist myself up into where I am meant to be.
Monday, October 29, 2012
Thursday, October 18, 2012
A Post-Media Existence
Cold turkey.
Am going off digital media cold turkey - well, as cold turkey as it's possible. Will have to check e-mail & Facebook messages; will allot ONE (1) hour per day max.
Realized that the wisest thing for me to do over the next four weeks - maybe longer - is to live a digital-free existence. Think of it as post-media. Can read or DO things, just not sit in front of a screen for any amount of time. Because it's become quite insane.
That hour includes blogging, so I better know before sitting down in front of the keyboard what I intend to say & how.
There's a reason for this heartfelt pledge, which I'll talk about tomorrow.
Am going off digital media cold turkey - well, as cold turkey as it's possible. Will have to check e-mail & Facebook messages; will allot ONE (1) hour per day max.
Realized that the wisest thing for me to do over the next four weeks - maybe longer - is to live a digital-free existence. Think of it as post-media. Can read or DO things, just not sit in front of a screen for any amount of time. Because it's become quite insane.
That hour includes blogging, so I better know before sitting down in front of the keyboard what I intend to say & how.
There's a reason for this heartfelt pledge, which I'll talk about tomorrow.
Monday, October 15, 2012
Other People's Lives
For as long a I can recall, I wanted to live other people's lives. Not all, just parts. To have Carla's artistic graces, Gail's looks, Jody's brains, Janet's athleticism, Tara's popularity, Annette's charming shyness. Together, they formed impossibly perfect person who never existed - except in my mind and longing.
Still find myself doing that from time to time ~ wishing I had this person's ability to listen & recall, that person's apparent ease connecting & maintaining enduring friendships, another's calm attitude & restful presence.
Psychologists say that the qualities we dislike in others generally reflect those we could find in ourselves. What does longing for certain qualities tell us about ourselves? What inner sight could I glean from contemplating which other lives I'd love to reflect in my own?
Still find myself doing that from time to time ~ wishing I had this person's ability to listen & recall, that person's apparent ease connecting & maintaining enduring friendships, another's calm attitude & restful presence.
Psychologists say that the qualities we dislike in others generally reflect those we could find in ourselves. What does longing for certain qualities tell us about ourselves? What inner sight could I glean from contemplating which other lives I'd love to reflect in my own?
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Honoring Father & Mother
For the better part of the past year, I've pondered the question - what is meant by the commandment, "Honor thy father & thy mother."
It seems to me that honoring is more than being respectful, has little to do with whether or not you are frequently present in your parents' lives or if your kids play an active part in yours. Those things would be helpful & of great support, but is it all or any of what is meant by honoring?
I don't know.
What does strike me is that the way we truly honor our parents is to live the best lessons they taught us, to see the brightest, most shining paths they did their best to guide us to, and to follow; to ask ourselves if what we are doing is our true life's work or if there is something that could more fully give expression to all we are & open the way for that work to be broader, deeper, more encompassing.
A lot of people have parents who don't let them see their own stumbles, who don't live by simple positive core values, who don't understand that true achievement doesn't necessarily come with dollar signs, who view relationships as something to exploit & manage rather than celebrate & nurture. What about them? Can't help out - praise be, that's not my experience.
I love the passage in Joshua that brings this question to mind. Joshua, talking to the children of Israel, tells them - "If serving the LORD seem undesirable to you, them choose for yourself this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your forefathers served beyond the River, or the gods of the Amorites in whose land you are living. But as for me and my household, we will serve the LORD."
In my mind, that's the same set-up achieved by the best sort of parenting - you can choose to do this thing, or you can choose to do that thing, but here is what I am doing. Can't speak for my Dad, because he died when I was just in my early 20s; we'd never gotten very close, probably because we were more alike while my sibs were more like Mom, but even as a very young adult, I could see that he worked hard, knew his purpose, set & achieved his goals, lived with honor.
I do know that it is precisely how my Mom lived, because it drove me batty!!! I wanted her to take positions & advocate doing THIS over doing THAT, to hold people accountable & protect herself from future hurts by learning from past lessons.
She wouldn't.
Instead, Mom embraced each of her very different children as we were. She laid out before us all that she held dear in her heart, all that she wanted to achieve in our lives, like a glorious buffet of loves; if we chose to make a few our own, she was happy; if we chose to take more, she was happy; if we chose to take none, she was happy - - because those were OUR choices. We could do this, or we could do that, or we could take a path similar to her own.
Honor thy father & thy mother. Live a life based on values, live it outright - BE.
Tag, you're IT
Dressed & ready for church this a.m., I put my hands into the pockets of my beloved corduroy jacket (purchased with great pleasure at a long ago American Craft Council show in Baltimore). In the right was a business card from someone we met last week; in the left was a small piece of white paper, no more than 1" x 1/2", with craft scissors-cut edges - the handmade price tags I used yesterday at the last Bryn Athyn Bounty of our first full season.
Standing there, looking at it, was bemused to realize that 15 years ago, I would have been clueless who was indicated by the initials "DV" - would never have occurred that it was ME.
How long ago did I start going by Deev? Was it before Mom died, or after? Will have to check the back issues of the Bryn Athyn phone directory to see when I first listed us as "Murphy, John and Deev" instead of "and Elsa."
Has to be less than 13, because it was after Mom started her e-mail postings under Mindwalker1910 - and her circle started calling her Grammie & Grammie Kay - that the power of a name, of a NEW name that more truly describes some quality of our life, our being, dawned on me.
Looking at that little piece of blank paper, was reminded of how we all tag ourselves. On my B.A. Bounty tag, I put my identifying initials on the one side, the price of the whoopie pie or decorate-it-yourself cupcake on the other.
How like what I do in life - identify myself & determine my own value. Well, in collaboration with others. I would have way undercharged last year at my first bounty for my whoopie pies (introduced diy cupcakes this year); it was Paige Austin Gunther who recommended charging more than what I'd planned. The final call was mine.
What if she had thought the charge I'd planned was too high, that it needed to be cut? Would I have calculated the cost of the ingredients used, the time it took, and stuck with what I had (which at least covered those costs) OR would I have cut the price, shifting the event from one that generated a profit to one that made money for the college (which takes 20% of our sales) but not for me?
What value did I put on what I made? What value do I, every day, put on who I am? How much to I calculate my own estimation of my value, how weight do I give how others see that value? While what others see is a generously shaped, fairly bodacious woman, within I am basically the human equivalent of that 1" x 1/2", craft-scissor edged homemade price tag. Every moment, I identify my self, I determine my value, then act accordingly. Others chip in their opinions about that value, but the final determination is mine.
What is on the tag marked DV? Is it higher, lower or the same as what it might have been for ELM? Identifying myself, tagging my value. Are there things I can do to increase the value - make larger whoolie pies so that I sell all, dredge the filling edge of the pie with colorful jimmies or pipe the filling with a greater flair? add a 3rd size option to the cupcake offerings? And if increasing the size of the whoopie pies results in ALL being sold, will it disappoint John to not have one or two typically left over for him to enjoy?
What can I do to increase the value of my metaphysical tag, the one that identifies me & my worth? Does the value on the tag match up with how other people might or might not value me? Does it matter.
Interesting thoughts to ponder on a Sunday morning.
Standing there, looking at it, was bemused to realize that 15 years ago, I would have been clueless who was indicated by the initials "DV" - would never have occurred that it was ME.
How long ago did I start going by Deev? Was it before Mom died, or after? Will have to check the back issues of the Bryn Athyn phone directory to see when I first listed us as "Murphy, John and Deev" instead of "and Elsa."
Has to be less than 13, because it was after Mom started her e-mail postings under Mindwalker1910 - and her circle started calling her Grammie & Grammie Kay - that the power of a name, of a NEW name that more truly describes some quality of our life, our being, dawned on me.
Looking at that little piece of blank paper, was reminded of how we all tag ourselves. On my B.A. Bounty tag, I put my identifying initials on the one side, the price of the whoopie pie or decorate-it-yourself cupcake on the other.
How like what I do in life - identify myself & determine my own value. Well, in collaboration with others. I would have way undercharged last year at my first bounty for my whoopie pies (introduced diy cupcakes this year); it was Paige Austin Gunther who recommended charging more than what I'd planned. The final call was mine.
What if she had thought the charge I'd planned was too high, that it needed to be cut? Would I have calculated the cost of the ingredients used, the time it took, and stuck with what I had (which at least covered those costs) OR would I have cut the price, shifting the event from one that generated a profit to one that made money for the college (which takes 20% of our sales) but not for me?
What value did I put on what I made? What value do I, every day, put on who I am? How much to I calculate my own estimation of my value, how weight do I give how others see that value? While what others see is a generously shaped, fairly bodacious woman, within I am basically the human equivalent of that 1" x 1/2", craft-scissor edged homemade price tag. Every moment, I identify my self, I determine my value, then act accordingly. Others chip in their opinions about that value, but the final determination is mine.
What is on the tag marked DV? Is it higher, lower or the same as what it might have been for ELM? Identifying myself, tagging my value. Are there things I can do to increase the value - make larger whoolie pies so that I sell all, dredge the filling edge of the pie with colorful jimmies or pipe the filling with a greater flair? add a 3rd size option to the cupcake offerings? And if increasing the size of the whoopie pies results in ALL being sold, will it disappoint John to not have one or two typically left over for him to enjoy?
What can I do to increase the value of my metaphysical tag, the one that identifies me & my worth? Does the value on the tag match up with how other people might or might not value me? Does it matter.
Interesting thoughts to ponder on a Sunday morning.
Saturday, October 13, 2012
My thanks to John Wilkes
A snippet of a scene - probably no more than a few seconds - from the classic film, Gone With The Wind, features a sundial at John Wilkes' plantation with a saying from Benjamin Franklin, "Do not squander time, for that is the stuff life is made of."
Was I in 8th grade or younger when I first saw GWTW? Whenever it was, those few seconds stayed with me, touching but never quite connecting with something rooted in my very tissues.
While I can't say that I was raised to squander time, it's true that I wasn't raised to make good use of it. Which is a pity, because having a healthy respect for time and the companion ability to make judicious use of it seems to me two things every child needs to succeed in life. Didn't get it as a child, wasn't encouraged to develop it as an adult.
Praise be & forever thanks to All That Is for the fact that a desire to master both of those qualities - respect for & good use of time - appears to be part of my "original working parts." Explains why that smidgen of a segment of celluloid made a lasting impression on my elementary school mind & heart.
In Finding Flow, Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi notes that, "To live in time means to experience - through doing, feeling, thinking. Experience take place in time, so time is the ultimate scarce resource we have."
So many people spend the majority of their time pursuing things that have to do with their physical well-being, but which might annihilate their spirit, diminish if not outright squash their individuality, their innate creativity.
Was I blessed or cursed with parents who believed it more important to seek & find our True North self than to make bringing in the biggest, best income our top priority? Mind you, neither of them was adverse to making a good income, as long as the work was itself fulfilling.
Impractical? So it might seem to many. But my father created a business based on that principle, a business that was just beginning to fully thrive when he died at 62. He was already a success in my mind, since the overwhelming majority of businesses fail within five years of their start up. Not Dad - he made an income that supported his family, allowed him to hire full-time staff (including my brother) & even permitted him to take Mom on some romantic get aways, all while doing work that nurtured his spirit.
Neither my oldest brother nor my sister chose traditional career paths. While I honestly can't say I understand some of the choices they've made or paths they've taken, I know that some of my own friends are askance at career choices I've made through the years. Only they can know the whys of their choices, but I suspect they hark back to Mom & Dad instilling in us a driving desire to define & find our True North.
One thing I've discovered over the past 11 years is that if we embrace the promise that "the LORD will provide," it's more important than ever that we do all WE can to clear out whatever might block OUR reception. All That Is didn't create the concept of time - that's a human artifice - but BP (beyond pronoun) did create our energies, our ability to prioritize, to set our hand to the plow, our shoulder to the wheel, to experience.
Which brings me back to Franklin (and John Wilkes), admonishing me to not squander time, and to Mihaly Csikszentmihaly for pointing out that "to live in time means to experience."
Even though Time & I haven't partnered well in the past - due to my woeful state of deactivated thinking - we are reconciled & pledged to work together in the past. The fault is not Time's - Time has always been available, always been eager to be engaged in pursuits to bring rewards (yes, Gremmie, with resulting celebrations of many sorts). I've been the slug-a-bed.
Experience is real. It happens within the construct of time, which is an appearance. I really want to make excellent use of time so that I can rack up splendid experiences that develop my mind, expand my creative capacity, attracts interesting work, uplifts the spirit ~ AND ~ provides a healthy income.
Hmmm... Is that perhaps the greatest way I can honor my father & my mother?
Was I in 8th grade or younger when I first saw GWTW? Whenever it was, those few seconds stayed with me, touching but never quite connecting with something rooted in my very tissues.
While I can't say that I was raised to squander time, it's true that I wasn't raised to make good use of it. Which is a pity, because having a healthy respect for time and the companion ability to make judicious use of it seems to me two things every child needs to succeed in life. Didn't get it as a child, wasn't encouraged to develop it as an adult.
Praise be & forever thanks to All That Is for the fact that a desire to master both of those qualities - respect for & good use of time - appears to be part of my "original working parts." Explains why that smidgen of a segment of celluloid made a lasting impression on my elementary school mind & heart.
In Finding Flow, Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi notes that, "To live in time means to experience - through doing, feeling, thinking. Experience take place in time, so time is the ultimate scarce resource we have."
So many people spend the majority of their time pursuing things that have to do with their physical well-being, but which might annihilate their spirit, diminish if not outright squash their individuality, their innate creativity.
Was I blessed or cursed with parents who believed it more important to seek & find our True North self than to make bringing in the biggest, best income our top priority? Mind you, neither of them was adverse to making a good income, as long as the work was itself fulfilling.
Impractical? So it might seem to many. But my father created a business based on that principle, a business that was just beginning to fully thrive when he died at 62. He was already a success in my mind, since the overwhelming majority of businesses fail within five years of their start up. Not Dad - he made an income that supported his family, allowed him to hire full-time staff (including my brother) & even permitted him to take Mom on some romantic get aways, all while doing work that nurtured his spirit.
Neither my oldest brother nor my sister chose traditional career paths. While I honestly can't say I understand some of the choices they've made or paths they've taken, I know that some of my own friends are askance at career choices I've made through the years. Only they can know the whys of their choices, but I suspect they hark back to Mom & Dad instilling in us a driving desire to define & find our True North.
One thing I've discovered over the past 11 years is that if we embrace the promise that "the LORD will provide," it's more important than ever that we do all WE can to clear out whatever might block OUR reception. All That Is didn't create the concept of time - that's a human artifice - but BP (beyond pronoun) did create our energies, our ability to prioritize, to set our hand to the plow, our shoulder to the wheel, to experience.
Which brings me back to Franklin (and John Wilkes), admonishing me to not squander time, and to Mihaly Csikszentmihaly for pointing out that "to live in time means to experience."
Even though Time & I haven't partnered well in the past - due to my woeful state of deactivated thinking - we are reconciled & pledged to work together in the past. The fault is not Time's - Time has always been available, always been eager to be engaged in pursuits to bring rewards (yes, Gremmie, with resulting celebrations of many sorts). I've been the slug-a-bed.
Experience is real. It happens within the construct of time, which is an appearance. I really want to make excellent use of time so that I can rack up splendid experiences that develop my mind, expand my creative capacity, attracts interesting work, uplifts the spirit ~ AND ~ provides a healthy income.
Hmmm... Is that perhaps the greatest way I can honor my father & my mother?
Challenged - #1
Maybe not #1 in importance (although it may well be), but numero uno due to how much it's on my mind these days ~ ~ setting a time limit on goals.
This blog posting was originally titled "Time? OUT!!" It was going to address how time sets artificial limits on us, how it is our enemy in getting projects completed & promises kept.
As I typed it into the subject line, Gremmie (my former Inner Gremlin, now Inner Coach & Party Planner) piped up, reminding me of the cold, hard fact that what I need right now is precisely what I was about to disparage - well-enunciated goals that have specific time commitments attached, on paper & in my gut.
So, what is a time-specific goal that I've given myself? To make blogging a daily ritual in my day. To write in at least one blog every day. Not committing to when, just to get it done. Every day. Even if it is just sharing a blog or writing yet another tsk-tsk about the current presidential race. Something.
Challenged - #1: to post a blog entry every day between now and the end of the month.
Friday, October 12, 2012
Heaven Sent...
Sunday marks the 11th anniversary of Mom's memorial celebration. At this point, I had a rather strong sneaking suspicion that she was behind my getting the boot out of the corporate world as SOON as I returned.
This year has been a culmination of all that I suspected 11 years ago she was directing me toward, often in none-too-welcome but apparently quite effective ways. So many things this summer have been over-the-top wonderful, things no one could have predicted, not in a million zillion years.
Like experiencing Prescott giving Greg Nelson's memorial service, hearing the Ariosa being played practically to perfection (not possible on anything but a magnificent pipe organ), getting long, long hugs from Dave & Candy, realizing it was KENNETH playing his own arrangement of the Ariosa, hearing people talk about same-sex partners in the reception following the service as naturally as anything. What a perfect capstone to a blessings-filled year.
And then there was the car refusing to turn over, at Cairnwood Village, with both Anne & Marg in the car, waiting to be taken out to dinner. Panic never came into the situation, not even a general tummy tightening. Calm & resourceful. Lawson Smith offered to take Anne home, and she got there while dinner was still being served. Contacted John to contact AAA. Made & served Marg a Boston Market entree. Waited for the tow truck to arrive. Figured out how to get the rest of what I need for Bounty. Confirmed John has Susie's cell phone #. Talked to the tow truck guy who was also a mechanic & able to replace the dead battery. And I had a credit card to put it on!
No panic. Just got things done without fuss or misplaced energies. Mom would like that.
This year has been a culmination of all that I suspected 11 years ago she was directing me toward, often in none-too-welcome but apparently quite effective ways. So many things this summer have been over-the-top wonderful, things no one could have predicted, not in a million zillion years.
Like experiencing Prescott giving Greg Nelson's memorial service, hearing the Ariosa being played practically to perfection (not possible on anything but a magnificent pipe organ), getting long, long hugs from Dave & Candy, realizing it was KENNETH playing his own arrangement of the Ariosa, hearing people talk about same-sex partners in the reception following the service as naturally as anything. What a perfect capstone to a blessings-filled year.
And then there was the car refusing to turn over, at Cairnwood Village, with both Anne & Marg in the car, waiting to be taken out to dinner. Panic never came into the situation, not even a general tummy tightening. Calm & resourceful. Lawson Smith offered to take Anne home, and she got there while dinner was still being served. Contacted John to contact AAA. Made & served Marg a Boston Market entree. Waited for the tow truck to arrive. Figured out how to get the rest of what I need for Bounty. Confirmed John has Susie's cell phone #. Talked to the tow truck guy who was also a mechanic & able to replace the dead battery. And I had a credit card to put it on!
No panic. Just got things done without fuss or misplaced energies. Mom would like that.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
My Inner Leeuwenhoek
O All that Is, let me manifest my inner Leeuwenhoek! He had no formal training as a scientist - a tradesman, he became interested in the beyond-teeny world after using a magnifying glass to count the threads of a sheet - yet he's considered the Father of Mircroscopy because of the advances he made in microscope design & use.
Anton Van Leeuwenhoek, through his curiosity & actions, revealed a previously unimaginable world of microorganisms. He was the first human to see bacteria, protozoa, spermatozoa, rotifers, Hydra & Volvox, and even parthenogenesis in aphids. Astonishing!
Like Gregor Mendel, Leeuwenhoek was a brilliant amateur who surpassed the most credentialed intellects of his day. Unlike Mendel - who neither sought nor received acclaim while he was alive - Leeuwenhoek received full recognition of his astonishing contributions to science, including being made a Fellow of the highly prestigious Royal Society of London for Improving Natural Knowledge (aka the English Royal Society), once it got past its skepticism that invisible living creatures could actually exist.
Leeuwenhoek found a way to make superior lens in a surprisingly short time AND was savvy enough to keep that knowledge to himself, choosing to give the impression it was a complicated process. He realized that had they known how basic the process was, others would appropriate his refinements, leaving him unrecognized, unknown.
There's a good lesson to be learned in that. Leeuwenhoek valued his accomplishment & took steps to ensure that others valued it, too. Would that I'd been more that way in my life; may I model it more in the present & future. Because Leeuwenhoek didn't try to take as his own accomplishment the discoveries of others, just to assure his own didn't disappear, falsely attributed to men with scientific credentials & lofty degrees. He simply brought to his scientific endeavors the perspective a successful tradesman who knows the value of his brand and takes steps to promote & protect it.
Let me manifest my inner Leeuwenhoek, finding ways to bring all that I've learned in the larger business world to helping show happier paths to senior care. Let me, like him, find a simple way to create a superior product, then repeat it - a definition of creating a successful life, career. Let me value my work enough to share any results with the world, as Leeuwenhoek did with his findings, without feeling like I have to share ALL of what I know. Allow others to value what I do, because that is the only way anyone comes to have an influence.
And I do want to have an influence. I do want to help change how people view working with older people who face increasingly frail health, even reduced memory retention, to see this as a key stage of our evolving character, our core spirit. I do want to help families see joy-filled ways to work with older members who find themselves increasingly challenged by the changes often brought on by advanced years. I do want to help my "grannie' clients celebrate life instead of resigning themselves to a hollow existence.
Let me manifest my inner Leeuwenhoek ~ ~ so that, someday, someone may pray to manifest their inner Deev!
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Quelle Ninny
Spent over 30 minutes with a fascinating companion & spent most of it on topics of past - not present - interest. Interesting, how much easier I find it to talk about subjects that are old hat, rather than fresh, stimulating matters of what is happening now, what I'm working on that will manifest further down the road.
So - if/when/how a similar situation comes up, I will take the more unfamiliar yet waaay more engaging tack of gabbing about present moment interests. And be grateful for the grand time I had today!
So - if/when/how a similar situation comes up, I will take the more unfamiliar yet waaay more engaging tack of gabbing about present moment interests. And be grateful for the grand time I had today!
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
If we really want to live...
....we'd better start at once to try;
If we don't, it doesn't matter,
but we'd better start to die.
~ W. H. Auden ~
What is it, this "living" business?
For me, it is being of service, both to others & to myself. That "& to myself" bit is relatively new. Well into my 50s, service meant doing for others. Any question of what might serve ME didn't even make it to the conscious state, let alone manage to get onto list of THINGS TO BE DONE.
And that didn't seem in the least bit strange to me. It's what I saw my mother doing, my sister doing; it was what they appeared to expect me to do. Not a question of "put yourself last," but "there is no you."
It didn't seem strange, but somewhere on the far edges of my consciousness, wisps of "Hmmmm...." and "Do you thing...?" bubbles of thoughts drifted for brief moments before being burst.
At 60, I can say that - for me - fully living includes me, embraces me, celebrates me, reminds me that the New Testament presupposes I love myself. It doesn't say to love our neighbor MORE than ourself. Simply "as." Who am I to question the Divine??
Living to the fullest is, to me, honoring relationship - relationship with all that is around me, with the people I come into contact with every day, with the people I work with, care for, love; relationship with myself, with the complexities that make up the conflicts that pit different parts of my being against each other, with the different experiences of life that make up who I am & what I bring to life; with my Creator, the ultimate relationship.
Death, to me, is the sense of lack of relationship, lack of connection, of honoring. Little deaths are experienced & felt in zinging or getting zapped with a belittling comment, in broken promises, and especially in a sense of cold.
In some very real ways, I spent a good deal of my earlier life in a state of suspended animation, sort of a semi death, because I didn't honor, connect with, let alone respect the person I AM.
Connecting with, honoring, downright celebrating ME doesn't make me hoity-toity when it comes to others, not higher, not lower; just standing shoulder to shoulder on at least a relatively level playing field.
If we don't, it doesn't matter,
but we'd better start to die.
~ W. H. Auden ~
What is it, this "living" business?
For me, it is being of service, both to others & to myself. That "& to myself" bit is relatively new. Well into my 50s, service meant doing for others. Any question of what might serve ME didn't even make it to the conscious state, let alone manage to get onto list of THINGS TO BE DONE.
And that didn't seem in the least bit strange to me. It's what I saw my mother doing, my sister doing; it was what they appeared to expect me to do. Not a question of "put yourself last," but "there is no you."
It didn't seem strange, but somewhere on the far edges of my consciousness, wisps of "Hmmmm...." and "Do you thing...?" bubbles of thoughts drifted for brief moments before being burst.
At 60, I can say that - for me - fully living includes me, embraces me, celebrates me, reminds me that the New Testament presupposes I love myself. It doesn't say to love our neighbor MORE than ourself. Simply "as." Who am I to question the Divine??
Living to the fullest is, to me, honoring relationship - relationship with all that is around me, with the people I come into contact with every day, with the people I work with, care for, love; relationship with myself, with the complexities that make up the conflicts that pit different parts of my being against each other, with the different experiences of life that make up who I am & what I bring to life; with my Creator, the ultimate relationship.
Death, to me, is the sense of lack of relationship, lack of connection, of honoring. Little deaths are experienced & felt in zinging or getting zapped with a belittling comment, in broken promises, and especially in a sense of cold.
In some very real ways, I spent a good deal of my earlier life in a state of suspended animation, sort of a semi death, because I didn't honor, connect with, let alone respect the person I AM.
Connecting with, honoring, downright celebrating ME doesn't make me hoity-toity when it comes to others, not higher, not lower; just standing shoulder to shoulder on at least a relatively level playing field.
Monday, October 8, 2012
Sunday, October 7, 2012
Never Give Up
When it comes to relationships, never give up. Never sacrifice the person you are for the sake of a relationship, because that never really works. Never expect anyone else to be less in order to maintain an active relationship with you. Give people - and yourself - to flow out of relationship if that is best, but always leave a way open so you can flow back in if the occasion provides for it. Respect that once they are established, relationships take on a marvelous,inexplicable life of their own. You can step away from relationship, but the only way you can truly move totally out is if it never existed in the first place.
Lesson from a 60 year old. Check back when I hit 70.
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Engaged
Am grateful that I spent my single years actively noticing the things that came into my circle of experience as a single woman. Realizing that there were couples out there who had a great need of the surplus time & energies that were mine (since my social life was virtually non-existent) to provide. Realizing that it would be wisest to seek child care work outside of my cozy close hometown, since if someone wanted me for a Bryn Athyn function, then it was probable it would be something I'd want to attend, too. I offered things - my time & energies - that would not be available in the same way if I was married, had children.
Am grateful that, after I married, I was the sort to look around at my life situation & realize that I still had a considerable amount of available time & energies to offer people in need of some get-away time, as well as a husband who was utterly at ease with his own free time. Did it ever dawn on me that perhaps my talents were as suited to working with "ancients" (Mom's term, not mine) with newborns, toddlers & teens? Not really - was too busy working with my own ancient, Mom, who lived with us.
Am grateful for realizing that having the delightful home my husband provided allowed me to offer creativity workshops for all ages, from fudge-making & cake decorating to "For Men Only" gift crafting to "My Best Year" discussions, expanding interests, talents & perspectives.
Behind it all was Mom, always encouraging me. It didn't really occur to me that Mom, in her 80s, was herself fully engaged in life due to anything I might have done. Took until a few months back for me to fully appreciate Mom's comments that I badgered her into doing more. Never clicked how often I was encouraging, enabling & empowering - downright PUSHING - her to stay fully engaged in life.
When Mike & Kerry came with the kids for Christmas in the early 1990s, Mom was loathe to have them stay here; assuming her reluctance was due to logistics, John & I figured out how to transform an unused spare room into a comfortable bedroom for the parents, with the kids cozy in the den (happy as clams, with their own bathroom & telly) - she, everyone, had a wonderful time filled with priceless memories.
It took little nudging to convince her to drive down with me to DisneyWorld after I'd been part of a massive layoff from Prudential; never really took the time to consider that not everyone would have arranged all their travel plans around the needs of an elderly woman, but it was a pleasure for me - and we came home with even more priceless moments & memories (and, in key ways, a transformed ancient).
When it came time for Whitney's wedding shower, at a time that Mom was still recovering from a bout of poor health, once again I busily removed obstacles from Mom's ability to go.
When Mom longed to experience a friend perform in Iolanthe, I pointed out that she wanted to hear Bob sing, not see the show, so we could go for the first half, then duck out at intermission - she treasured hearing & seeing him without a shred of regret at missing the full experience.
Never fully dawned on me what she meant by badgering until a young adult acquaintance this summer reflected on her own experiences with me, using a word that made everything CLICK While I remembered babysitting for her family when she was a little one, had completely forgotten subbing for a history teacher when she was in high school. A quiet observation blew my socks off ~ she noted that I brought the same unusual quality to my teaching that I'd brought to babysitting: instead of just plunking the kids in front of the television or reading with the students from the textbook, "you engaged us - you did things with us."
That's what I had done for all those years with Mom - engaged her, engaged her in what was happening right around her, with an expectation that engagement was possible. Just as I had with Sharon's family, with her class.
The same is true, working with my grannie clients. The quality I bring is engagement.
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Blindsided
One side effect of Mom's passing that I never foresaw was the sense of solitude, of being involuntarily alone, that entered my life as soon as she left it. Never expecting it, I never did anything to prepare myself against the loneliness of each day, no longer graced with someone right at hand, ready, willing & eager to discuss all manner of topics, from lively political debates to current movies, what was happening in the church & at the school, family & friends.
The house went suddenly silent.
See, I'd never developed discussion partner roles with John. My hubster is a terrific conversationalist with others, blessed with an ability to carry on discussions about what seems to me the most arcane topics. John has a far more elastic memory than mine, able to pick up & retain interesting facts & ideas, one well-honed by years of listening to the radio, not zoned-out by years in front of the telly. When he is with me, he likes to just be quiet, to just enjoy being us. And he never had to do more, since Mom was always there.
Until she wasn't.
I do not have a good relationship with my house. It has never been a place where I felt welcome, felt safe. To this day, there isn't a room in which I feel fully comfortable. After Mom was reunited with her O! Best Beloved, this sense of whatever was compounded by a pervasive sense of mild to not-so-mild depression.
See, I'd never been alone. Ever.
Last night, for the first time, I experienced the positive power of those feelings of unwelcome solitude. I know how my grannie clients who have lost spouses, who are alone in places where they know very few people & are close friends with none of them, who find themselves feeling an alone-ness they never saw coming, never prepared themselves to handle. It is really pretty darn impossible for someone who has a busy, active, family & friends-centered life to imagine what it's like. About as possible as someone who is sighted understanding what it's like to be blind.
My mother had a great gift for solitude. She exercised - her famous side bends, touch toes, twists. And she was a devoted walker. Mom was a great letter writer, always had a crossword puzzle at the ready, always had WFLN playing on the radio. She was at ease in quiet. Mom was a rarity. If she had a Fortress of Solitude, it seemed to be filled with things to keep her mind perking along, growing, expanding. And she always, no matter how alone she might have felt or missing Dad, knew that I'd be home at the end of the day.
Imagine how it feels to be for people who know that they'll be just as alone at the end of the day as they were at the beginning. That is the reality for many, if not most, older people. Most don't have the advantages we tend to have in Bryn Athyn, of knowing so many people. But even in B.A. there are many older people who find themselves still with us while their close friends - the people who knew them as youngsters, as young adults, young marrieds, through middle age & older - and siblings have gone. Imagine if you had a life filled with family & friends, with voices, with wonderful moments & people to share treasured memories - then, it was gone.
Going to be pondering that over the next few whiles...
The house went suddenly silent.
See, I'd never developed discussion partner roles with John. My hubster is a terrific conversationalist with others, blessed with an ability to carry on discussions about what seems to me the most arcane topics. John has a far more elastic memory than mine, able to pick up & retain interesting facts & ideas, one well-honed by years of listening to the radio, not zoned-out by years in front of the telly. When he is with me, he likes to just be quiet, to just enjoy being us. And he never had to do more, since Mom was always there.
Until she wasn't.
I do not have a good relationship with my house. It has never been a place where I felt welcome, felt safe. To this day, there isn't a room in which I feel fully comfortable. After Mom was reunited with her O! Best Beloved, this sense of whatever was compounded by a pervasive sense of mild to not-so-mild depression.
See, I'd never been alone. Ever.
Last night, for the first time, I experienced the positive power of those feelings of unwelcome solitude. I know how my grannie clients who have lost spouses, who are alone in places where they know very few people & are close friends with none of them, who find themselves feeling an alone-ness they never saw coming, never prepared themselves to handle. It is really pretty darn impossible for someone who has a busy, active, family & friends-centered life to imagine what it's like. About as possible as someone who is sighted understanding what it's like to be blind.
My mother had a great gift for solitude. She exercised - her famous side bends, touch toes, twists. And she was a devoted walker. Mom was a great letter writer, always had a crossword puzzle at the ready, always had WFLN playing on the radio. She was at ease in quiet. Mom was a rarity. If she had a Fortress of Solitude, it seemed to be filled with things to keep her mind perking along, growing, expanding. And she always, no matter how alone she might have felt or missing Dad, knew that I'd be home at the end of the day.
Imagine how it feels to be for people who know that they'll be just as alone at the end of the day as they were at the beginning. That is the reality for many, if not most, older people. Most don't have the advantages we tend to have in Bryn Athyn, of knowing so many people. But even in B.A. there are many older people who find themselves still with us while their close friends - the people who knew them as youngsters, as young adults, young marrieds, through middle age & older - and siblings have gone. Imagine if you had a life filled with family & friends, with voices, with wonderful moments & people to share treasured memories - then, it was gone.
Going to be pondering that over the next few whiles...
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