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!