OK, I'm/we're back

While I realize I don't have a large "following," who have been waiting with bated breath for my next entry... I am here to tell my intimate audience that I've returned to my online journal. I had hopped off for quite a while since I didn't want to withhold information - but wasn't ready to blast the unknown tangled web of ether with such personal news: I'm pregnant again! Now that it can't be so private anymore, since I look like I just downed a 12 pack, I figured I's start writing about it to whoever is listening.

I won't give a lot of unflattering details, but being pregnant gracefully is not one of my strengths. I am apt to whine a lot. While I am full of gratitude for the miracle of life that I get to be part of... it strikes me constantly that - yet again, my body is not my own. A long time ago, when I tried to quit smoking, I tried to take on the mentality that body was not my own to trash - it was a gift from God to treat with respect; as if I needed to hand it over. Well, once I started actually caring for my body (quit smokes, exercised, ate better), I got to appreciate the idea that I could be accountable for my own health & state of my body. The benefits of my sacrifices were paying off and I felt more alive. I was getting credit for a job well done. I think moms have to wait a REALLY long time to fully get the credit they deserve for what they put their bodies through carrying a kid. Some other being is in there pushing stuff around - draining the life out of me - and will eventually even ask me to fulfill my mammalian duties! Yeah - it's a blessing to take part in helping someone into the world, a wondrous synergy, a reminder of our place on the planet... but sometimes it's simply a drag to not have your body to yourself for a minute.

I just hit the beginning of the 2nd trimester which is supposed to bring back the energy, happy thoughts & motivation to look presentable... but not sure my body knows that yet. Any minute now. I do not intend to simply get on here and whine - but I needed to get all that off my chest. Next week I'll be back with something to distract myself from the cute alien baby invading my personal space.

Nourishment

As I continue to leisurely nibble on delicious leftovers from the Thanksgiving feast, I am struck with the love-hate relationship so many of us in the world of the wealthy are lucky enough to have. While so many throughout the ages and across the globe yearn for mere sustenance, others of us see food as an activity, a prize, a comfort, or even a chore (as I manipulate my toddler to eat her peas).

I try to be grateful rather than guilty for the many blessings I have, but I have to admit I am simply gluttonous when it comes to food. The sensory experience of the taste and texture of so many foods send me into vacuum mode. Rather than being satisfied by the experience of a sample I want to attack the culprit of my temptation and devour it so the craving goes away (then there is nothing left to crave of course).
Despicable I know.

I've heard of the "Slow Food Movement", spoken with people who understand food to simply be fuel, and respect that you-are-what-you-eat. Intellectually I agree with those honorable positions, but I have not been willing thus far to confront my dysfunctional relationship with food. So - here it is: I'm using this public setting to start therapy with my gut. Starting now - I get to treat food as nourishment: just as nature has presented it to me all along. It isn't something to use to feel better, close the day, celebrate a holiday, nurse a wound or pass the time... it is supposed to feed my body and soul (duh).

As a toddler watches my every move now, I need to be deliberate about everything I do on the planet. We just invested in a year's worth of locally raised meat and it's time to call a local dairy and research community supported agriculture. I know I won't always be able to eat like the guru of sustainability BUT I can respect my own body enough to overcome the addiction to quick fix gorging and sugar rushes. Why wait for a New Year, I've made my decision - I need to live it. I have my tools gathered and will follow up throughout the week as I adjust - feel free to ignore, cheer me on... or join me!

Mind Sweep

While I pride myself on not wasting too much of my life in dusting, organizing and polishing - I have recently realized the healing power of removing physical clutter from my environment. Along with purging that physical clutter I see that I can also process a lot of emotional baggage that I didn't think was still weighing me down. As I have stuffed things in "memory boxes" perhaps I did more than simply packing up nostalgia. Surprise! Even though my background in a 12-step program trained me to be open it's still my natural tendency to BOTTLE! And, another surprise: just because I've talked, written, painted, cried, and hit as I process - does not mean I took the final step in letting it GO.

A quote that I have painted (among many others) on my bathroom wall finally makes more sense to me: "It's never to late to be what you might have been." (George Eliot... who ironically, was really Mary Anne Evans). I always figured that referred to professional aspirations, which seemed pretty hokey - seriously, you have to give up being a pilot in the Air Force at some point. Now, ah-ha, I see the need for faith that I do not have to settle for the natural tendencies I have become familiar with practicing. And, I have the freedom to try on new habits before deciding if they are a good fit.

Here I am - now before the nebulous online audience to hold me accountable to trying on a new personal exercise. Keeping my mind clear by purging material clutter. Perhaps I'll find something interesting once some cobwebs are out of my head.

Being Inspires Hope

Below is the inspiration behind the piece of art (above) I just donated to my friend's non-profit: Hope for Creativity. For a night of inspiration please join us at their event October 7th, 7-10pm at GaGa Gallery in Swampscott.

Being pregnant almost three years ago changed me in many ways. As I took part in helping another life come to be, I was totally humbled at the revelation that this little being could make such an impact on so many lives; before she even took her first breath of air. We get so wrapped up in doing something monumental and being a "success" as we evolve into adults, we forget that it is simply in being that we fulfill our role on this planet.

Stop. Watch.

There are many reasons having a child has changed me. The one that strikes me most often is how fun it is to discover how wonderful the world is again. When my 2 year old's "hair is windy" or as she asks me for the tenth time that minute: "What's that sound?"...I am confident that I am giving her the most beneficial learning experience by simply helping her explore the world. The more questions the better, whether I have the answer or not. In fact, I want her to know how important it is to know that we can't know the reason for everything - and that's what makes it all so wonderful.

Not all good - but all inspiring awe. I love the Einstein quote: There are two ways to live your life - one is as though nothing is a miracle, the other is as though everything is a miracle. As I watched my father deteriorate with leukemia, I was overwhelmed with a lot of grief and pain. But, because he was taken bit by bit from this earth, I was able to process how remarkable the whole evolution of his time here was. While cancer ate away at him, it allowed all of us the opportunity to tell him what impact he left with us, usually the smallest of acts leaving the biggest impressions. My father made plenty of mistakes, but alongside those are a legacy of learning, laughing and loving which can not be judged, simply experienced. It is that experience that is the miracle we all get to participate in.

As I showed my daughter the seedlings pushing through the ground this spring I recalled how fascinating the process of death is as well. As Dad aged before us 20 years in as many days at the end of his battle, it was totally humbling to realize how fragile the human body is. It helped me to see his body's failing catch up with the hold the medicines and disease had over his mind. Watching for all the clues the Hospice caretakers told us about as the body decides it's time to shut down. All the fine pieces of the human instrument are always working in complete harmony for us most of the time and we never stop to admire it until things start to get out of sync. Life really is the exception... from the time that one sperm fought to make a connection to that egg to every day our immune system takes over the next bug, to the time when this borrowed collection of molecules is ready to get back to the earth and feed new life.   

I can be so amazed at mankind's recent technological strides and distracted by the occasional drama of petty personality issues, but to keep perspective occasionally I need to just stop and watch. See what amazing gifts we are allotted every day by simply experiencing life on this planet. When a little girls asks you: "What's that?" and you just see an ant - take another look and consider how cool that is. An ant, who can carry a load hundreds of times it's size, about to join its colony of thousands who live in a sophisticated social system under the ground we walk about all day. It makes me feel small when I consider how amazing the rest of the globe is at what it does. And, here I am just writing a blog while my kid takes a nap. That's OK, maybe my role for today was to help someone else be grateful - even amid pain or confusion. Enjoy the ride.

concise or inaccurate?

It amazes me how many people decide to put a picture of someone other than themselves as their profile picture. Recently I scanned an old photo of myself at age three and most people on Facebook assumed it was a photo of my daughter. Yes, it's sweet that so many consider us to look similar, but what concerned me was how many people assume that the picture representing me would be a shot of my daughter. Maybe many parents do this since many of us have FB accounts to primarily keep up to speed with family and friends and share the visual tidbits of life. There are certainly many non-parents who also do not have a photo of themselves, but a picture of their pet, favorite cartoon character or celebrity. Then, any of us in a relationship struggle with: should I have a couple shot - if they have one, I should too.... I'm sure it's just another relationship descriptor as couples start off - waiting for the moment you've "made it" to their profile picture.

So, am I conceited because I assumed that my profile picture was supposed to be one of just ME? Looking up the definition of "profile" I figure we're all talking about the meaning: "concise biographical sketch" in this case? Maybe I'm not the only one in a bit of a tizzy since having a child - and I can't separate who I am from who I gave birth to? Or, is "who I am" still as wrapped up in "what I do" as it was when I had an impressive-sounding title on my business card? And, if we do assume it is best to choose a photo with our significant others - are we doing it out of obligation? Because we are all about that relationship? Maybe we just looked best in that photo.

It is a lot to ask of one photo to be a concise biographical sketch of a whole person. Maybe the definition: "a representation of something in outline" is a more accurate take on how we respond to a "Profile Picture" request. And, perhaps, the way we each to select a profile photo reflects a lot more of our true identity than whatever the illustration depicts. Consider the people in your circle who change their photo constantly. What about those that don't take the time to find one and stick with the silhouette? And those who you can tell are taking most of these shots with their own cameras at the end of their fingertips ... I imagine them looking at themselves on the screen and adjusting their expression until it is just so.

Hopefully I didn't just make anyone too hyper-aware of their self-expression on FB. The Facebook experience is so similar to the day we'd sign yearbooks at the end of school. I would have that anxiety that my "closing remarks" wouldn't stand out or that a candid shot was in there somewhere when I had an acne breakout. Here we are, all vying for attention within this intangible meeting spot which provides an anonymous pass into your life. At least, unlike the yearbook, this book is so much bigger, no one is going to happen upon your page unless they really wanted to know more about you. And, isn't it sort of satisfying to think that others want to know more about you? Even if you can't figure yourself out yet?

faith

Below is my attempt to respond to a reading from Hebrews Chapter 11. Our Pastor is on vacation and asked a few of us to comment on the reading - I don't normally do this sort of this on my own.

A few weeks ago Pastor Henry asked us to share examples of those who make up our “cloud of witnesses.” Of course, I waited until last night to put some of my thoughts on paper… but it made me consider many characters in my life that have influenced my understanding of faith in God. There are plenty of inspirational heroes throughout history who have lived up to some of the descriptions in Hebrews: the imprisoned, tortured, and gruesomely maimed. However, these sorts of examples were a bit far from my realm of reality to do me much good. As with most significant life lessons, it is not the celebrities from afar who we learn the most from, but those people who we get to see up close, with all flaws apparent. It is in watching people in my life struggle with their faith that has shown me how faith is a process rather than a personality trait. 

I learned a great deal watching a college friend who decidedly abandoned all the teachings her Russian Orthodox family packed her with and consequently fell into years of great emotional confusion and physical stress. Now I hear from her as stunningly devout mother, wife and church member who is raising a family grounded in the teachings she previously had cast aside. Since I had known only the wild child, I was concerned that this was just a façade which she had built up to simply be accepted as an adult. After speaking with her however, I realized that I had been a witness to her testing the extent to which her actions proved her worth. After all the rules she had broken, her family and more importantly, her church, welcomed her back and valued her simply because she is a child of God. God’s judgment was not based on her academic standing, her appearance, her language, her associations – He took her back because she had faith and walked towards Him once again. Everything else followed; it wasn’t a drastic personality change – it was a return of faith that repaired the esteem she had in herself as a representative of Jesus.   


I believe sincere faith has to be acquired through truly experiencing life, rather than something that can simply be taught. My father grew up in a pious household as a Pastor’s kid, with strict guidelines submitting to Biblical law. Even though he went off to a Christian, Nazarene college, as a young adult his intellect would not comply with the teachings his parents’ religion imposed. He was known on campus to get into debates with professors over the validity of religion. It was clear by the books I watched him study he was always searching for some sort of practical foundation for the passionate faith he saw in his father. At times it seemed, he envied the strength it gave my grandfather and at other moments he pitied his father’s devotion to a God that so often seemed unjust. It seemed that my dad always felt unworthy of a relationship with God since he had broken so many rules. It wasn’t until my father struggled with leukemia that he opened his heart to a faith that had little to do with rules and fairness. As he spent so many hours in hospitals being transfused blood which strangers had offered and sat among children who never knew a cancer-free life, it began to sink in that God isn’t about doling out rewards for good behavior in this world.


While it was painful to watch a disease eat away at my father’s body, it was a relief to see him realize that, while he was haunted with “sin that clings so closely,” if he chose to accept God, God would accept him. I know that he had finally made this choice during our last conversation. He warned me not to follow in his footsteps but to instead, “walk with the King.”  The call in today’s reading to: “run with perseverance the race that is set before us” reminds me that faith is not about blindly following instruction, but it is a journey we make together with the Lord.