Winds that bring change

The view from the porch is actually a collage of memory photos that I've collected over the Memorial Day weekend.
1) My daughter wading in Viking Lake State Park, Iowa. (Honestly, what else were those first-generation Swedish-American immigrant guys from Stanton going to call it?)
2) Sitting in the back seat of the car while my son drove and my dad rode as a passenger, "I don't like it over here..." Spoken like a man who loves his automobiles. But in the end, Grandpa was impressed.
3) Winding along Highway 2 through Waubonsie State Park.
4) The sea of green that is the Missouri River valley just south of Thurman, Iowa, along the Loess Hills. Iowa is truly lush and beautiful.
5) The hot wind felt at First Congregational UCC, Red Oak, Iowa... gently stirring my heart to open to the winds of change for my faith.

The Grand Army of the Republic veterans' memorial
Evergreen Cemetery, Red Oak, Iowa

6) The remarkable beauty of more than 1000 American flags flying on a picture-perfect Memorial Day, the tears when I happened across the graves of people I once knew...
7) My son driving me to Nyman for the first of many times.
8) Watching my daughter weave through the gravestones of Swedish immigrants at the Lutheran country church  that is special for my family from my great-grandparents, to my own baptism, to weddings and funerals. A cloud of witnesses...
9) Taking in the beauty of Iowa from the two-lane Highway 92, from Griswold to Knoxville.

Mt Hope Cemetery, Fremont Lutheran Church,
Nyman, Iowa

10) My cherry tree - it must be my year to enjoy the cherries. The birds usually take them all before I have a chance. That's ok. I enjoy their song everyday.


I had a moment of several moments this weekend. On Sunday evening, we were on a drive back from Nebraska City, taking in the corn that has really taken off. A mom moment occurred when we needed to find a potty for the youngest among us and thank you to the good people of Randolph, Iowa for having a portapottie in their lovely little town park. We had to walk to the far end of the park, to the edge of the trees that framed a breathtaking view of new corn and a huge field of hay. The wind was Pentecostal, hot and strong, nearly pushing me backward. It was extraordinary and it made me stop to actually feel it as it surged up the field at Randolph. It hit hard enough to make me stop and notice the life that was happening before my eyes. Life moves as fast as that wind. Pay attention. Another school year has come to a close. Those first and last days seem to come along more quickly every year. Pay attention. Every day is a gift. What will you do with your's today?

The Single Mom's Guide for Raising a Young Man

This single mom's new how-to resource

It's a blind spot and a tricky deal for a single mom. 

The necktie. Oh, I can pick them out, buy them, assess the fabric and color to go with the shirt, sure. But actually tying the knot... well... not so much.

There's no shortage of resources online...

Tie-a-Tie

The Art of Manliness

Tie guide

Tie-a-Tie Easily!

Tieapedia

To tie a tie

There are youtube videos. It's in the Cub Scout handbook. 

And it is no joke it is in the Cub Scout handbook, right with all the other diagrams of knots. It all sounds like a Bugs Bunny cartoon to me - the Windsor, the half Windsor, the four-in-hand, the Pratt knot, and the swanky bow tie. 

Ask any man to tie a tie, as my dear boy has often done, and you see that some men can do it swiftly and no questions asked. Others take their time, stick out their tongue a bit. Stand behind him or stand in front of him. Or simply tie it around their own neck, loosen the knot, and then slip the circle over his head lasso-style and cinch up the knot. 

He's then admonished to just keep the tie tied and slide it on and off as needed. Which is what we have done, however... he says that it is important for him to learn how to do it himself. Even though there is no shortage of resources available, because I have half-heartedly tried to tie the half-Windsor myself, it is helpful to have a person of knowledge standing there to show you where you are going wrong. 

A dear friend has reminded me of a magazine I used to love to read when I was a college co-ed because it was about all things men. Esquire has become this single mom's new resource for "how-to." Because learning to tie a good knot in a neck tie is only the beginning... 

A little rant for Mother's Day

Last week, some friends of mine and I were having conversation about the Time magazine cover... you know, this one... and one of my friends remarked that the cover and the article once again served to divide women, when we really don't need anymore reasons.

And then Sunday rolled around... speaking of dividing women... 

Don't get me wrong... I love the cards, the breakfast in bed, the picnic orchestrated for Mother's Day, all the lovely handcrafted things my children have made for me over the years that I still have. It's just that I know too many people who spend that beautiful Sunday in May silently grieving.

I think my awareness of this started in high school. My pastor said that it was Mother's Day and all the women in the church were to get a flower and she explained why. From then on, I've been aware that Mother's Day is not the holiday for families that Hallmark wants us to buy into...

For the women in our society who are not mothers, either by choice or by circumstance, are somehow made to feel that they aren't in the club because they haven't had a child. 

For those whose mothers have died and they are remembering and grieving.

For those mothers who have lost a child.

For those who are estranged or have a difficult relationship with their mother. 

For those children who are raised by two dads. 

For dads who are raising their children alone. 

I don't think I am better than another woman simply because I have had a child. I know plenty of women who would be incredible mothers and I know plenty of women who have no business being a mother. 

I'm not suggesting we boycott Mother's Day.  It is a lovely tradition and sentiment. I just want us to be sensitive and mindful of the quiet pain of others.  

A lovely gift

A close friend of mine is a photographer and she took these photos of me at a particularly difficult time.

I was still married and my subconscious had already decided that my marriage was over. The rest of me had a long way to go to reach that realization. The photo shoot was to help me feel good about the awakening I was going through. And it certainly did. I am totally rocking that dress...

Today, I was chatting via email with my friend who took these photos and the next thing I knew, she sent them to me again. "I just wanted to remind you how far you have come since these photos were taken."

Speechless. I remember feeling really amazed when I saw these photos the first time and feeling really good about them. Today, I feel so much love, empathy, heartache, and more for the woman I was in November 2008. To be honest, I feel that pain acutely looking at these photos.

What a gift from a dear friend, to chronicle this time for me so that someday I would look back, as I did today, with love and gratitude for the journey so far.

Emerge

emerge  verb 

intransitive verb

1. to become manifest, to become known.

2. to rise from or as if from an enveloping fluid

3. to rise from an obscure or inferior position or condition

4. to come into being through evolution

I've noticed the first moths and butterflies of the season lately. In my yard, the ones I have seen are black with an orange smudge on each wing. They are pretty creatures, butterflies and moths. Not being too into bugs, they are one of the few that don't make me go, "eeuw." 

I have learned to appreciate that those "delicate" butterflies are extraordinary survivors. Even though it is their lifecycle, they have had to earn that beauty. Emerging is messy. It takes a lot of energy and perseverance. 

I can relate to that.  Struggling to emerge from your own chrysalis can feel more like fighting against yourself,  your choices, habits, ways of living that may no longer serve you. I think one of the reasons we are all so chronically tired is that we are spending so much energy fighting against ourselves, beating ourselves up for not being the perfect person we think the world wants us to be. 

Emerging and transforming requires letting go. It's letting go of one rung of the ladder so that we can move to the next one. And that's hard to do. 

"What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from." T.S. Eliot

Leaving the path of Acceptance

     Acceptance is a person's agreement to experience a situation, to follow a process or            condition (often a negative or uncomfortable situation) without attempting to change it, protest, or exit.

     Acceptance as a concept appears in Eastern religious concepts such as Buddhist mindfulness, and in human psychology. Religions and psychological treatments often suggest the path of acceptance when a situation is both disliked and unchangeable, or when change may be possible only at great cost or risk.

You know Acceptance. It's the same as "go along to get along", "don't rock the boat", "if it ain't broke, don't fix it." Acceptance was my primary setting, my mode of operation. Acceptance became a habit that robbed me of my voice and buried my true self. I accepted everything and everyone, which sounds really virtuous, but many of those situations and people require some deeper examination. For me, Acceptance was really one layer after another of damp, wet blankets that nearly put out my inner fire.

Through a lot of work, and therapy, and writing, and enough tears to float a boat, I parted ways with Acceptance. I woke up from the coma I found myself in - never speaking up, never questioning, never protesting, and realized that I was missing out on life by accepting everything that came by. Do you remember The Stepford Wives? Yeah, I was one of those... always smiling, always politically correct, always diplomatic, and truly false. (I love that, "truly false.")

Leaving the path of Acceptance has been difficult. Probably one of the most difficult things I have ever done. But I have found my voice again, allowed my inner fire to use those blankets as fuel, and began to question and examine life again.

Socrates said, "The unexamined life is not worth living." How many of us are living our lives just going through the motions of everyday busyness thinking that we are truly living? We accept that "it's just the way it is", "I'm just lucky to have a job", "I can't leave my marriage, even though we are just roommates with kids." There is a whopping lot of comfort with Acceptance and there are times when Acceptance is very positive as solid reality and a coping mechanism.

But Acceptance can be like a drug. Therapeutic and healing when used with care.  Acceptance can be abused and habit-forming when we keep thwarting our desires as if they are annoyances.

The ride on this big blue marble is a short one. If you could do anything you wanted to in life, anything, what would it be? A novelist? A racecar driver? Run a tennis camp for kids? International business tycoon? Chef-owner of your own restaurant? A photo-journalist? Winemaker? Professional volunteer? President of the PTA or the USA?  Own a bike shop? What are you called to do and is Acceptance of the way you think life has to be right now standing in the way of that?

Life's calling. What are you going to do?

Sensory Overload

Today's view is one that is lush with spring's sensory overload. Kelly green grass, deeply scented lilacs, and tulips of every shade.  The white crabapple trees in the lawn of the church actually glowed in the moonlight after leaving worship Thursday night. 

For many of us, Easter is a time that brings back memories. This week, I've been helping my son assemble a memory box for the title character in the novel, "Friedrich." It's a story of a Jewish boy in Germany during the time of Hitler. John's assignment is to create a box that may have belonged to Friedrich. It is to include at least a few things - a set of letters from a new character the student creates who is a friend to Friedrich, what might be considered photos of Friedrich, a whistle, and a photo of the new character and Friedrich.

This week, we went through a similar box I created several years ago. It includes old photos of my grandfather during his time at the University of Iowa around 1915.  Letters from home my uncle receieved while he was at UI or in basic naval training. An old savings book from great aunt Ellen. A small framed silhouette of Aunt Beverly. 

This small box doesn't hold much. However, what it does contain are truly links between my children and family members they will never meet except through these items. It has been wonderful to go through the photos and items and have my children listen to their grandmother share her family with them... Florence, Kate, Mabel, Ann, Ellen, Clara, Richard, Beverly, Riley...

Also in this box of mine are photos of my grandmother, Virginia. She loved Easter. I remember the beautiful egg tree she would decorate and the scent of Easter lilies in her home. I have Easter cards she sent to me as a little girl, signed in her lovely script. Between the lily in my own home and the photos, I do feel like I am spending the holiday with her, too.

Easter brings sentimental memories to me of new dresses, white gloves, black patent leather shoes, and of course, a hat. Easter eggs made of sugar with a little peep hole to view a beautiful garden scene within... the list goes on.

This weekend, I'll enjoy those memories of Easters past, of loved ones who live only in spirit, and soak in the rebirth of the land as spring has returned. I wish for you the joy that spring brings.