Time and the Quest for Meaning

This thoughtful intentional living is great - but it is also a full time job.

To make my neighborhood a better place - a good goal, don't you think? - I shoveled out an extra parking space today. This is the parking space that plows use as a dumping ground, so the snow piles are about 3 feet high. As I was hacking away at it, neighbors stopped by to wish me well and to give me ice picks; I even got two lunch invitations. TIME COMMITMENT - 3 hours. BONUS - No need to do any specific exercise and maybe my neighbors will give me an award (all right, I know there won't be an award).

To improve my diet and add green leafy things to my menu, I made some broccoli soup yesterday. It was okay... but too thick. So today, I steamed more broccoli and carrots, heated up the soup, added more milk, blended the whole thing, and then cleaned it all up. TIME COMMITMENT - 2 hours (some of which was used clearing out my pots and pans cupboard). BONUS - if green leafy vegetables are the ticket, maybe my blood pressure will go down.

On the same food wave length, I actually made a pot of coffee (questionable health vaule, but high financial value because Starbucks would have charged my $4). This involved finding the coffee filters, setting up the coffee pot, reading directions on how to make coffee, and then making it. TIME COMMITMENT - At least 45 minutes. BONUS - Starbucks did not get my money today.

To honor my mother and father, I checked in with them. A HUGE storm is predicted for Chicago this week, and they may just be snowed in for the rest of their lives. My mom went out for library books; I suggested that wine might be more to the point. This effort also included weather checks on the internet and checking in with my siblings. Worrying also factored in. TIME COMMITMENT - 2 hours. BONUS - Not yet clear.

On top of almost 8 hours of intentional living we add: Laundry - including folding, putting away, and changing bed sheets. Unloading a dishwasher. Paying the bills. And trying to keep up with my Facebook account ( I admit that Facebook does not exactly score highly on the thoughtful, intentional use of time scale.)

I've got school tonight, and I actually did some work on my consulting gig around the edges.

I admit, I am not as efficient on the home front as I could be, but how in the world did I think it was even possible to work full time - keep up a 2.5 hour daily commute - support a teeanger - and lead a peaceful, intentional life of connection to my fellow man?

Not possible. Not even close to possible. Trust me on this one.

Intuition

I am learning that one of the tools for living a full life is honoring intuition.

This week in the eastern United States has been one snowstorm after another, which is just fine with me. I am fit enough to shovel; I am not losing income; I have the great privilege of being able to settle in to a pace set by the uncontrollable forces of nature. I LOVE giving in to it. Snow days are a gift.

Whie enjoying the gift, I am not blind to the fact that snow days completely disrupt schedules and that - literally overnight - shovelling emerges as a survival skill, second only, perhaps, to maintaing fire.

Shovelling out cars in a townhouse community is a family event of sorts. Folks boldly tackle the seemingly insurmountable piles of white, exchanging stories of epic snows from years gone by as the piles of snow are re-arranged in a manner that makes movement possible. Shoveling torques your body in unfamilar ways, and somehow that generally feels good - especially because it has the beneift of providing a discrete vantage point from which to watch neighborhood kids playing in their own snow memories.

Maybe somebody makes hot chocolate. The work gets done. Neighbors lend a helping hand.

It is the helping hand thing that can be a bit problematic. Will my neighbor be insulted if I shovel their sidewalk? Will the woman three doors down be appreicative if I dig her car out, or will she be watching from her window, terrified that I might chip her car's finish? What if I do chip the damn finish?

Should I use salt on someone else's sidewalk? What about their pets? What about the enviornmental considerations of salt? I will use salt on my sidewalk but I don't want that on anyone else's conscience. What about the teens who are out and about trying to make a buck? Shouldn't they have a shot at some business?

Forget it. I will do my own shovelling and retreat to my warm home. I have plenty to do.

And yet. Yesterday. My neighbor - a nice guy with a bum hip - was out shovelling his car alone at dusk. Something told me - JUST TOLD ME - to go out and help him. As I walked out with my shovel, he welcomed my help and thanked me for coming. And then he took a deep breath, and with heistation, said that he'd been meaning to tell me something. His wife has been ill. Very ill. It has been a sercet they have held to themselves for months, but can no longer shoulder on their own.

AH HA. The sky opened. My intuition to help my neighbor wasn't really about the snow. Or the shovelling. In retrospect, it was about being attentive to the needs of someone else before I even knew what the needs were.

I get a kick out of being caught up in those moments. For me, it is in the times when our intuition won't let us go, and we take a risk of interaction, that eternity breaks into our life and we get a glimpse of our eternal connections both to each other - and to something else that far exceeds are ability to grasp.

Good reminders.

Kate Day!

Snow... and lots of it.

So, there was no school today, and I am guessing that there won't be school tomorrow. We are looking at a very slow week in the substitute teacher department.

Which is okay. I've got my consulting gig - which keeps me pretty busy - and I have my KATE gig which was the whole point of quitting my job in the first place. Today was a trip to the gym, and to Starbucks. I made broccoli soup and ate the egg dish that I made last night. I did my homework and took time to really understand it. This afternoon, neighbors were crocheting, and I joined them; there was homemade apple crisp and if you aren't jealous of that, you probably should be. It was a good day - the kind of day that I know I need and don't take enough of.

The down side is that Frances is at work tonight, and she's sleeping over because of the weather. The house feels lonely - I do too. And I am also aware of all of the shoveling that I will have to do tomorrow. By myself. But that's tomorrow.

To keep things interesting, I am going to wrap this day up with some watercolor practice.... maybe I'll try a snow scene! (Snow scenes are deceptively difficult....... and I couldn't pull one off.... but heck, this is my blog!)

Over

I went to the Out of Darkness Walk for suicide prevention last night. Cried through the whole thing. There were maybe 20 people there, and it didn't feel akward to particpate, but I also stuck to the back of the pack and let the tears flow. I wonder how much loss we were all carrying.

Anyone who encoutered me yesterday knew I was agitated about SOMETHING; even anticipating the walk set me off balance. I was curt at my Doctor's appointment - where I was told by my doctor to expect a blood pressure med presecription in two weeks if I can't bring my pressure down on my own. We'll see.

And I was HYPER in class last night. Chatty. Too many comments. I am going to keep my big fat mouth shut next week and say NOTHING.

All because - I am sure - I took time to revisit Molly's death, and let myself feel the loss.

On balance, I think the suicide prevention walk was a good thing to do: the tears were healing. But it is not okay to run over everything and everyone in my path like some 10,000 pound energizer bunny filled with weeping misery. Not okay at all. I need to work on that.

Subbing has slowed down, which is just fine with me. After the holidays and Frances' birthday parties (successes all!), I am exhausted and really need a break. Add to that the fact that we are expecting snow here this week and I am going to call January OVER.

Very, very over.

Activist?

In my mind's eye, I see myself and I am an activist.

But I have never been very good at activism

Be it a war, a candidate - heck even a neighborhood issue - I find it hard to proclaim a strongly held belief. I know that there are two sides to just about anything. And I have perceived - judged? -activists as having an overly simplistic view of the world.

For sure I am seldom well enough informed about anything to even begin to suggest to others what they should be thinking and doing, or so I tell myself as I abdicate any responsibility at all for taking a public stand.

So, tonight when I have a chance to be part of a march/vigil for suicide prevention before my 6:30 class, I find myself torn. Why am I torn? I want to attend. I can't even pretend to be uninformed about suicide. I have firm opinions and they are far from simple.

I think that, in some way, my hesitation come from fear. The fear of being indentified as a survior of suicide. The fear of being judged as broken - or odd - or different.

And, I tell myself, my state of mind - which is basically good - could be shaken out of balance pretty easily. Might the other attendees be a bit radical for me? Can I bear to be publicly indentified with unrelenting pain and deep loss? Might I be forced into an odd intimacy with stragers?

Evidently I am a wimp.

Activism is a hard road. It is a road of identification with others. It is the road, not of being right, but of encouraging others to consider what might be wrong. And it is the only road that has ever led to a changed world.

So, I am going to go - very nervously - to this march tonight. And by my presence I hope to encourage myself - not necessarily anyone else - to own the loss of Molly's life in a way that honors her, keeps her alive, and encourages others.

A Blogger

One of the contestants on American Idol described herself as a "Food and Entertainment" blogger. Or something like that.

So, I couldn't help but ask myself.... what kind of a blogger am I? This blog is all over the place. It doesn't have a theme. It's about how I am living my life after the death of my daughter, and it's about what I think about God and how I survive and how I care for my teeth.

We haven't tackled wine yet, but we will. And not in some snooty way. Oh no, we'll tackle wine in a two glasses down, two to go sort of way. And we'll tackle carbohydrates and fat grams and the unexplained tear.

But first we need to get through Frances' SECOND 50th birthday party. A dozen folks are spending the weekend. We bought plenty of snacks and meals and toilet paper. Next up - a sign up chart for the bathrooms.

You're probably glad you are missing it.

A Brief Look at Reality

Let's see.

My undergraduate degree is in business, so I know

a litle bit about income and expense.

I was willing to substitute teach yesterday and today, but I didn't get jobs. While I have filled the time with my lengthy to-do list and I am happy to have had the time off, I also have to admit the fact that substitute teaching is, almost by definition, not going to be a dependable source of income.

And I just found out that my consulting gig is going to pay HALF of what I had hoped that it would pay. Hmmm. I am NOT loving the work, but I don't think that I should just walk away from it out of some misplaced pride either. A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush; or something like that.

So, the income side of the ledger is increasingly uncertain, while the expense side of the ledger is not. In theory, we should be saving money. That is not quite how it is playing out.

Frances' birthday celebrations are costing between $3,000 and $4,000 (closer to $4,000). We are having a ball. A lot of fun. But turning 50 is not cheap!

And I just put down a $500 deposit on a school trip to France that I am taking this summer. I am looking forward to it, and couldn't take the trip if I had a full time job. So, it is a GIFT to be able to take this trip. But, again, it is has already cost money and is going to cost quite a bit more.

We have enjoyed the last couple of months; I had stayed at my job too long and it feels really good to be free of the constraints that full time professional responsibilty brings.

Since quitting my job, I have indulged in the dream that I will never again have to deal with an HR department and a full time job. Today, that seems like a fantasy. Reality is going to crash in on us very soon and we need to find some discipline in the financial aspects of our new life!

A Day of Rest

After a tough trip home from California and 5 days of Frances' 50th Birthday Party planning/party enjoying/party aftermath it is time to look forward to her second party that is this Saturday.

This event is in our home town and folks are flying in for it, every bed is taken; we are renting hotel rooms and borrowing air mattresses. Expectations may not be sky high - but people are really looking forward to getting together.

And I took today off. By the time I got home yesterday there was no way that I could even begin to think about putting together a second event - an event that will be very different from the first one - without a day of rest. Maybe I am a wimp. Most likely I am a wimp. I am a wimp.

Our schools were all closed today due to ice, so I didn't even feel guilty sleeping in until 11 AM, dawdling over Starbucks (one can ALWAYS get to Starbucks) or reading a book all day. Substitute teaching will, I am sure, be available when all of this is over.

This weekend's event will come togther. We'll have a great time. As long as I take a day off first!

PS.... HOW IN THE HECK would I have "produced" both of these parties if I had a "real job"? I probably wouldn't have. And you know what, putting all of this together is way more important than anything I ever did on my full time job. Happy Birthday Frances and let's celebrate all of the people in our lives!

Frances Turns 50

Frances is celebrating her 50th birthday this month with a bicoastal celebration over two weekends. I flew to California yesterday to finalize details for the west coast event. We'll do the east coast party next weekend.

The flight was lovely - I had my own row, my own region, heck my own air to breathe. Doesn't happen much in this day and age! This is going to be a great party and I am excited about it, but Frances and I both miss Molly. Molly should be part of these celebrations; Molly and I should be collaborating on the details; I should not have made the trip out here by myself.

I am not touchy feely; my feet are planted even too firmly on the ground; but the fact is that as much as I missed Molly yesterday, her presence was unmistakeable. I saw a vibrant rainbow from the plane yesterday, hovering over the plane's wing. Molly drew rainbows in just about every elementary school art project - I think she figured out how to draw them and went with the tried and true - and since her death I have often felt her presence in the odd appearance of a rainbow. Sounds too simple, I know, but I have seldom been more sure about anything.

And then Frances' mom and I went to see a movie yesterday afternoon - I was lonely, sad, missing Molly- and we ended up at Country Strong - a movie that celebrates moving on after unspeakable grief. I had no clue what the movie was about; I really wasn't even planning on going to a movie. As we watched the movie, which is very challenging for one who has lost someone to suicide, I couldn't help but think that Molly wanted us to know that she gets it. We have to move on. She knows.

I am not relying on a creed to get me through my life without Molly. I am letting my experiences lead me. And my experiences teach me, over and over again, that the life that exists beyond this life is not some distant or even separate experience. It breaks into this life all the time. The veil that separates us all is thin and ripped in many places.

I am here in California celebrating a 50th birthday. Looking at a calendar, Frances does not have as many good years ahead of her as she has behind her. Looking at life through the lens of some sort of eternity, Frances is just getting started and her best life is - most definitely - ahead of her.

Putting Christmas Away

I understand people who leave their Christmas decorations up until Valentine's Day. Or longer.

Putting Christmas decorations up is full of excitement and nostalgia and anticipation. Each decoration, unwrapped and carefully placed, seems to hold both memory and hope as we look back over our favorite holidays and look forward to adding another Christmas to our life story.

On the other hand, taking the decorations down can't help but bring to mind, since no holiday ever really meets our full and lofty expectations, a sense of loss at what is over and will never be again. The memories held by each item, wrapped and put away for the year, are exceedingly raw without excitement and anticipation as a buffer.

Putting the Christmas decorations away is, quite literally, putting hopes, memories and dreams in a box. It's a painful thing to do. But it is also a good reminder that nostalgia for the past, hopes for what can never be and dreams that rely on Christmas magic to make them come true probably should be left in boxes for most of the year.

And to be honest, once the work of taking Christmas down is over, there is a relief. The house feels comfortable; the pressure to create a perfect moment is over; a new year holds both promise and challenge.

Who knows what the new year will bring? Hard work? Yes. Losses? For sure. Will we be more than ready to bring out that box of memories and nostalgia next December? Absolutely. Will that box do us much good right now? Probably not.

Updates

Okay...



For my faithful followers who really want to know, I am providing these updates.....

• Face Cream is probably a good idea. My face does look and feel healthier this week.
• Dad is really trying to be part of life after his round with West Nile Virus, but he will never be the same. That mosquito took a lot out of him.
• I am really, really good at Wii Tennis.
• Substitute Teaching is fun and challenging.
• We did not win the lottery.

Frances turns 50 next week - it is nothing short of a National Holiday with parties on both coasts. Updates to come.

Looking for a snow delay....

As a substitute teacher, I'll be paid for tomorrow if there is a snow delay. If the schools close, I am out of luck. So bring on just enough snow to snarl things up for a two hour delay.

The way I figure it, a delay would be PERFECT. Enjoy a leisurely breakfast, maybe even meditate or go to the gym before school. Collect a full day's pay. I could get in to that.

Suprisingly, a delay is enough of a disruption for me tomorrow, because it is football jersey day at the school I am subbing in this week and I am sort of excited about it, even though I don't own a jersey. Maybe I just sort of like the idea of uniforms!

So here I am tonight, joining in with all of the students and staff who are willing the snow out of the sky and all of the sports fans who want Baltimore to win a football game. What the heck. If you can't beat 'em join 'em..... It's nice to have a group to join in with.

Dropping By....

I am honored whenever anyone drops by the house or stops me in the grocery store. Some of my fondest memories are of folks just knocking on the door and inviting themselves back in to my life.

Since Molly's death, however, having folks drop by the house or stop me in the produce aisle has become realy, really complicated. Do they know that Molly died? Are they going to ask how Molly is doing, since after all she should be in college by now? How am I going to handle questions about Molly so that the "guest" understands that I value their freindship even if I am trembling and awkward and stumbling over my words? Being dropped in on is a gift... but it is also terrifying.

And don't get me wrong, it is not a daily occurrence, but it is an increasing one thanks to all of our new technology.

Of course, Facebook offers more options that an in-person encounter Sort of. I haven't really figured out the Facebook etiquette. For example, there are some "friends" whom I shared Molly's death with when they "freinded" me. There are others who ended up on my friend list whom I didn't specifically tell. I am not sure which is the better option; there is pain no matter what as the ones I didn't tell ask, or the one's I did tell had to go through opening their Facebook page looking for the joke of the day and finding an update from me.

For me, the bottom line is this: we exisit to support each other. I will let you into my life, but keep in mind that my life is complicated. And I will try to remember that your life is very likely complicated too.

Face Cream

Day three with the house to myself.... Frances comes home tomorrow.

I am at the point that I am really enjoying this: the quiet, the freedom, the space. And yet, the foundation of my willingness to enjoy myself is the awareness - and the confidence - that she is, in fact, coming home. It is pretty clear that left to myself for any length of time, I would become the complete recluse that I have been these left few days. A few days of it - great. Any more than that, not so good.

Today I decided to buy face cream. With this new (short) haircut, my skin is on shockingly promient display, and my age is also bringing skin care to the forefront. Up until now, my skin care program has been - and I do not exaggerate here - nonexistent.

I started the shopping process by visiting the Oil of Olay website to get my "personal" skin care recommendations. I knew to do this after far too many hours walking on the treadmill in front of the TV set; those commercials with healthy, active people living magical lives because of the cleanliness of their pores really got to me.

It turns out that the website questionairre is just a few questions after which a personal profile is provided. I was embarassed to admit to the computer that I washed my face when I was in the shower in the morning and that after that all bets were off. Easily, the computer suggested several improvements in my skin care regime. Suprisingly, I decided to follow the suggestions.

Armed with my Oil of Olay recommendations I headed to Target where I stood in the face cream aisle long enough to attract the attention of security. It probably took me 30 minutes to examine four shelves of merchanidse and find the suggested cleanser, moisturizer (with sunscreen!), night cream (while I was at it) and for reasons that I don't quite understand - daily mini peel lotion thing. Whatever that is.

I am not expecting miracles here. I know that the cleanliness of my pores is of very limited importance in my overall quality of life. But hey, it isn't going to hurt anything either. I'll keep you posted!