Don't Be

The latest reminders in my life include:

• Don't be surprised.
• Truth is.
• There are no coincidences. 
• Carelessness with the hearts of people = bad.

• So here we go..... Don't be surprised... 

So a new curve in my journey has arrived. I join the ranks of those "laid off due to lack of funds." Never been here before, still adjusting to the idea let alone the reality.
But I can tell you this... I am not alone. Thank you very much. 
I don't mean there are scores of others riding the same curve (though there are). I mean... oh goodness, now I have to tell you a true story and it starts when I was almost nine years old... but quickly jumps to today. - In other words I won't be long-winded because I'm respectful of your time.


When I was eight I had a tough year, I was questioning a lot and didn't have a very creative teacher. But what we did have in class was a science book, that had excellent pictures of... bugs. We lived out in the country in a little town in Ohio.... Hinckley - Home of the Buzzards - that come back every March 15th - Yes really and  there was a parade and a pancake breakfast and a buzzard in a cage... a circus red cage.    I am, er ah -  happy to report, the buzzards still come back and the township has in that great American way expanded their celebration check this out: http://www.clemetparks.com/events/buzzards_sun.asp

But I digress, sorry. So third grade was over and summer was mine. I explored the hillside behind our house sometimes with siblings and sometimes alone. I loved to go into the huge wild grapevine "houses" with, warmed by the sun, just picked, blackberries and sit in the shade and think.. and eat berries. 

• Truth is.

One day  I was standing in the middle of the blackberry patch, covered in scratches from the thorns - because in the middle of the patch were the best and biggest berries you see.... when there just was a hush in the day. It was very sunny and there were birds chirping and all sorts of hillside noises but there was a very evident hush. I froze and there in front of me was a praying mantis. "Oh, it's like in my science book, I said out loud, "God you really did create this, this, praying mantis." 
I realized two things in that moment. One: I had questions as to whether or not what my science book purported as truth was. And Two: I had a holy God moment right then. I spoke out loud to him and I felt his presence. I stood watching that mantis in it's praying position for a long time and then quietly backed out of the berry patch... berry-less and went home, I was pensive and silent and realized I had just experienced some truth.


OK, big deal, a moment in your little girl life, whatever, how sweet. 

• There are no coincidences.

Little girl grows up, doesn't see a praying mantis in person ever since that day. So now, it is many decades later (never mind how many decades later, just a lot). 


It is my last day at work. You see, this isn't just the loss of a "job". It is the loss of a job I truly enjoyed with an organization with a mission I believe in.... it was a sad day. 


I have worked hard to finish well, because even though I was laid off I had determined that last almost month would be productive and positive - and now it is my last day and it is a big day. 


Alright, so I am flying around the house finishing up a few things and suddenly decide I should water the plants on the front porch. Please note: This is something I would NEVER do before going to work. 


I go to pick up the watering can and see something on the underside of the handle. Uh, yes a praying mantis. And in that moment, the day in the berry patch flashed back to me. And it hit me. It's not a sad day forever - It is today, but there is promise of tomorrow and I am not alone and that is Truth and there are no coincidences. 


The praying mantis stayed right there on the watering can for three days and everyday I would crouch down low and look at it and its multiple eyes would look at me and its antennae would wiggle and I would think, "It's going to dart, leave, vamoose.", but it didn't and I was glad. 

Now, last thoughts....
Carelessness with the hearts of people = bad.


Since that morning I have experienced so many people being careful with my heart. You've called and emailed and invited me places and given me hugs and coffee and dinner and good conversation and lovely glasses of wine.  Thank you. 
I didn't even realize it at first, not till Saturday morning, when I heard a song on the radio, a duet and the woman was singing a refrain ..... - "I think I see you being careless with my heart." But you weren't careless, and it really has helped.


I cannot get that phrase out of my mind, how many people have I been careless with, whose heart have I injured or bruised? 


How about you have you thought about that? 


I keep thinking of that line and I keep thinking of that simple moment when I encountered my first praying mantis and the last moment when I encountered the next praying mantis - and I don't know, I am just glad that Someone chose to be careful with my heart last Friday, that whole weekend, that Always. It inspires me - to be sure that no one can say I am being careless with their heart.  Its hard sometimes, but I think we can do it.


Really how about you, what do you think?

Being Stretched

It looks like I am going to be experiencing the turning of  a page. Closing a chapter and beginning another. For some reason getting comfortable in a chapter just isn't part of the journey I am on. Don't read me wrong, I would like to kick back and be comfortable and just live where I am but it hasn't happened very often in my life... especially since, um goodness I cannot even remember! Uh-Oh.

I'm not much of a conscious dreamer. I mean I don't sit around and think about what I want to do or wish I could do. I just have always done what is in front of me and tried to do it well. I did have a few dreams that came to reality. Two great kids. Founded the preschool, ran it, helped lots of families. I never dreamed of going to Africa, but I did... twice. I did dream once about moving to San Luis and did. I don't want to talk about the stuff that happened that was, well, terrible because of course I never dreamed of doing any of it.

But now I have two friends that have challenged me to really think about what I want to do. So I am, really thinking. It is frankly, ...  exhausting.

I thought I was where I wanted to be... already, at least for now, but maybe not, maybe not.

I'll keep you posted.

Ethiopia on my Mind.... UPDATE

It was one year and four months ago that I was in Ethiopia. - My life was/is forever changed and my heart deeply pierced. 
We did not just visit Ethiopia, we made new friends and saw opportunities, possibilities for people. People that think and feel and hope EXACTLY the same as you and me... except their lives are so hard and exhausting I don't really know how they go on. 
Do you remember the two words I came home with after the trip? 
 Thoughts....  "How will I ever begin to describe the people and the country of Ethiopia to my friends and family at home? Give me just two words, two that will help me tell about what I experienced. The country. The people.Two words that would describe both." That is what I wanted, and I got them.

Strength

Beauty

And now sixteen months later I add five more words. So now, when I say Ethiopia these words come to mind:

Strength

Beauty

Joy

Resilience

Perseverance

Life

Hope

Remember THIS picture?

I call it Hopelessness and Death

It was taken near the community of Tamma Mexi. This is where the people of the community come daily to gather water. Unless it is not the rainy season or there is drought. Because then this pit of of sickness and death dries up. 
And then the women and children travel on foot over very rough terrain... Oh, what? ... rough terrain... what? I asked what that meant. 
This is what the chief in Tamma Mexi told me. He said, "That means no animals, no carts... Animals cannot go there and that means no cart can either. So the women and children carry their jerry cans." Those jerry cans that weigh 1 pound each, they fill them and rest a short time.... 
Then they lift the jerry can filled with water. 

They lift the jerry can that now weighs 41 pounds and carry the water back to their homes. 

And that takes 8 hours every day.

And yes, that water too is the same quality as the water pit near their homes. 

Not Safe. Not safe for human consumption. 

But that is all they have, so they consume it, because they are thirsty. 

Just like you and me.

Here are some of the children I met that day - Notice how their clothes are mostly beige, brown, dingy? That is because the water they have is not only their drinking, cooking and yes, bathing water; it is their laundry water too - it stains their clothing.

When we left I cried. But the people stayed there, because that is their home.

So home we went. We had a project plan and funds were raised and so we could stomp on injustice - the work could begin. 

My colleague, Kiera, is in Ethiopia right now. This morning, wonder of wonders we were able to chat online - She filled me in on what she was seeing and sent me the pictures of  Tamma Mexi that she took a few days ago.

Here is the pit of water today. 

Empty. 

No rain since May.

But that is not why it is empty.

It is empty because the water is captured now at the spring, where it is safe.          

So now let's call this 

Health and Freedom

Look close and note the sign says, "Hand Dug Well" - That's right, no big machines could get in there. So. Hand dug. By the people. 
People of strength and beauty.
The people that sixteen months ago said, "We ask for help, we are ready to work, we will do the work." They meant what they said.
Kiera said that though people were not drawing water when she was at the pump she saw them in the community, and good health is evident. (Yes! Fist Pump) 
She was happy to report  "I drank water from the pump." She could do that ... Because now the water in Tamma Mexi is SAFE WATER.


This kind of giving and helping is called - Helping without Hurting - 
It is a hand up, not a hand-out. It is a good way to work to bring true help to real people, people that are just like you and me. You might want to consider a couple of these ideas - 


Check out this website.
Order the book.
Read it.
Spread the word.
http://www.whenhelpinghurts.org/


For reflection and more true stories; consider this idea.
Eight short chapters, one a week for eight weeks. Do it alone, do it in a group. 
http://www.lifewater.org/significantsacrifice

Bring dignity to lives. Do something significant and lasting. 

Offer a real hand-up not more dependence.

Please. 

Puppet Truths and Appreciation

I like puppets. I like that you can make them be whoever you want them to be. Mr. Rogers was good at that. Wait, don't leave me... read on, please.

He created this puppet and gave him these qualities:

Who is King Friday the XIII? (voiced by Fred Rogers) - He is the imperious monarch of the Neighborhood. He is relatively egocentric, irrational, resistant to change, and temperamental, although open-minded enough to listen when told he is wrong. He has a fondness for giving long-winded speeches and using big words. Despite these qualities, he's basically a good regent, capable of summarizing the lesson he has learned after something has gone wrong. 

A friend posted this quote this morning. It has me thinking and pondering....


In his 2001 commencement address at Marquette University, the late Fred (Mister) Rogers said: "For a long time I wondered why I felt like bowing when people showed their appreciation for the work that I've been privileged to do. What I've come to understand is that we who bow are probably-whether we know it or not-acknowledging the presence of the eternal: we're bowing to the eternal in our neighbor. You see, I believe that appreciation is a holy thing, that when we look for what's best in the person we happen to be with at the moment, we're doing what God does. So, in loving and appreciating our neighbor, we're participating in something truly sacred."

Mr. Rogers & King Friday XIII

I realized when I read the quote that my thoughts about eternal things - Er... please read 'things', people - has not been sacred enough. 
Mr. Rogers! you connected some dots for me. Thank you, sir!


What I knew....
There is eternity  -  I am me housed in a body.


I had heard about the eternal living in me and others, and believe it. 


                                          Appreciating other is a good and right thing to do.


But this picture that he spoke. Stops me in my tracks. Actually it stopped my heart with a giant check mark.


Flashback to one post earlier... Splinters and Planks.... I have so much more to learn. The older my body gets the less I know. It's like my younger body with it's thick walls and strong beams keeps some eternal realizations OUT. 


Could it be, as my body grows older, more of the depth of the eternal can get in? As the walls of this world around me weaken can I see out the cracks to the future of what is true and eternal?


I don't know. I'd like to think so.

House with "eyes" looking out and up

But  honestly... Today, after this many years here... how many? Um, 60.


As I was saying, after this many years here, I know little of what is really, really real. Because here in this place I see darkly. But someday, I will see clearly. And that brings me peace.


Maybe we should think of our time here like this.... 


"I have never really considered  myself as a TV star I always thought I was a neighbor who just came in for a visit." - Fred McFeely Rogers

Splinters and Planks and Planks and Splinters

This post has been awhile coming, it's been brewing and running through my mind - back and forth, back and forth for about six months.
Tonight, as I left TJ's with my groceries it HIT me.

"Write it tonight." So here goes.

Planks and splinters are EVERYWHERE.

In YOUR eye I SEE a big old plank...

and in MY eye... ha - there, what do I see?

a tiny splinter.

HA.
- The truth is this:

In MY eye is a giant, ge-normous BEAM.
And it blinds me - all the time it blinds me.

And really in your eye what I should realize and see is a teeny, tiny, ever so teensy splinter.

In other words....

What I SEE in others and think is so dirty, so bad and so disrespectful and so immature and so wrong, so evil, rude, pompous, and prideful.....

WELL
It is absolutely NOTHING compared to what my own real stumblings, mistakes, judgements, prides, attitudes, frustrations, and angsts are.

See, I see others and see all this stuff that is just well, frankly, bothersome and crap. But really, I am the one with the problem.

It shouldn't really matter what is in anyone else's heart or what they are doing, what does matter is what is in my heart and what I am doing. (No don't start protesting here, don't start quoting stuff in your head... about the heart or other people's actions and choices... read on, get the whole thought)...

The thing that matters, I think, the very most is this:

Can I, will I, ask God to show me what HE sees when he looks at the person that I THINK has a plank in their eye? OR am I just too busy staring at the perceived by me plank in their eye to do that?

Am I so sure that what is in my eye is a splinter is so teeny, tiny, ever so teensy? - I mean really... am I?

When I was about eight years old we were attending this church. A church of brick with nice people and a little class for kids my age. I liked it. I learned stuff. We had this workbook and every week we would hear a story and then look in the workbook and see a small illustration of the story and then, I am sure - fill in the blanks, cause when you were eight back then that is how you participated.

So anyway, there was one week where the picture showed these drawings... stick sort of persons that were mostly HEAD. Two of them.

Coming out of one of the head's EYES was a giant, I mean a ge-normous PLANK. BOOM! They had my attention! The plank head was just looking and staring and fixated on the teeny splinter in the other head's eye. And plank head was frowning and had his arms crossed and was all judgmental and squinty eyed.

That picture totally mesmerized me. I kept looking and looking at it. I asked the teacher if I could take the workbook home, I wanted to show it to my parents, but the answer was no. Cause back then, you left your workbooks in the room. period.

OK SO....I just
kept staring at the picture and there and then I experienced a moment of understanding and change.
I made a decision.
I went home that day and I just had a different view.

But,
I STILL sometimes (a lot of times) thought/think

ha, ha, ha I ONLY had/have a splinter in my eye...

BUT
EVERY-SINGLE-DOGGONE-TIME.....

I was/am WRONG.

I always had, have and will have here on earth a ge-normous PLANK in my eye - and I better be doggone sure that I am working on getting it out of my eye, cause it blinds me...

- I NEED A CRANE, A CHAIN SAW, A GIANT PAIR OF PLIERS, A CROWBAR, a something, some tool that will do the job and I need to use it on my own PLANK.

Not anyone else's... splinter.

I am NOT trying to sound self-righteous or perfect because I AM SO NOT ... SO NOT.

But tonight, like other times I have blogged, I just felt so very COMPELLED to write and I had to write and share this weak and sad part of me.

May I always when in my own stumblings, mistakes, judgements, frustrations, and angsts STOP myself and ask...
please show me how to change... in fact, change me.

AND, secondly,

Instead of seeing another person's stumblings, mistakes, judgements, frustrations, and angsts AND dirty, bad and disrespectful and immature and wrong, evil, rude, pompous, and prideful STUFF,

.....may I instead ask God to show me what HE sees when he looks at them. Cause he sees stuff like I don't - he sees people, every one of us with love, always.  

"if what you see by the eye doesn't please you
then close your eyes and see from the heart.
Because the heart can see beauty and love
more that the eyes can ever wonder." - Unknown

Favorite Things -

I am in a "pick up your heart and brain and appreciate everything about life" mode. What? Rolling your eyes, are you? I saw that. Well it works for me.
So there. And here goes.

I like...

Listening. To my kids - John and Meg and Andy and grand Rockford. To other people.
Conclusion on this thought: I like to listen, mostly.

Hearing and Moving to: MUSIC. Van Morrison, Mark Knopfler, Bonnie Raitt, Joni Mitchell, Emmy Lou Harris, Dire Straits, Lyle Lovett, Paul Simon, Carole King, James Taylor, Fleetwood Mac, Eva Cassidy.
That is just a start.
Do NOT ask me to put them in order of LIKE.

Discovering. Anything. Especially if something new.. Meaning I forget I know about some things. Meaning I am often easily delighted.
Ha. Ha. I know that is what you were doing just then. Laughing at me. That is just fine.

Because another thing on this list is...
Laughing. Hearing it. Doing it. Causing it.

Remembering. What I forgot. What it was like to be a young mom. And memories in general. They are so sweet. Especially the good ones. The others... pfft, they are OVER.

Breathing. In crisp, cold, fresh air. And I like breathing in general as well. I find it important to daily life.

Looking. At African Violets. Up into the trees. Across an expansive valley. At anything Yosemite. At Rockford. The Sky - daytime, nighttime, any weather, anytime.

Watching. Trees sway. The staid and solitary 'praying mantis'. Ladybugs. Bees. Owls. Flowers nodding. Birds as they take flight. Birds landing. Birds watching the world around them. Birds hopping. Birds in the birdbath. (Someday I will blog you my history with birds. You will be amazed. And my 'praying mantis' story is a good one too.)

Smelling. Hay. Fresh cut grass. Rain. Spices. Herbs. Roses. Lavender - Big, huge, bunches of it. Indian food. Thai food. Italian food. BBQ'd chicken, beef, lamb, fish. Strawberries. Peaches.

Good golly that must mean I like to....
Taste. Indian food. Thai food. Italian food. BBQ'd chicken, beef, lamb, fish. Strawberries. Peaches. Foods that call for lavender in the recipe.

Speculating. Which can get me into trouble. BUT LISTEN. Sometimes it is the way to think something through and assess to bring decision.

Touching. Lots of things. Soft things. Animals. A gentle touch to someone's shoulder. Rockford's cheeks. Velvet. Hay. Vegetables... as I pick them warm from the sun, from a garden.

Ignoring. Pompous people.
And Mistakes people make. Which leads to - appreciating them for who they are.

I could, if I chose to, go on.
But I won't. Cause I am betting you are getting a little bored with this post.

So stop thinking about ME and tell me about you.
Where is your heart and brain? What's your list look like. Think it out, do it, go to Comment.

The Box

Oh.
Boy.
I took a little drive yesterday. I had a bit of a mission that I wasn't so sure about. I made very sure, oh so sure, I was driving at below the speed limit to extend mission arrival. I needed to be in charge, in control and I knew it. To bolster myself I very, very, yes, very purposefully took note of things along the way. Some of those things bring me peace always... but some of the things I noticed on purpose so I wouldn't have to think about my mission.

Quite fortunately, my mission destination was in Morro Bay and so being a lovely SLO afternoon the highway was full of just plain stunning views. Interestingly, I saw no herds of animals or other living, grazing creatures - that was, well, strange. Even the birds didn't seem to be out and about though it seemed that the air currents above would have been perfect for soaring. So I looked at the rocks, trees, hills, and meadows and when my brain started to spin itself the nasty way it seems to lately; (poor me) I looked at the cars I was passing and the people in them. And again, interestingly, they all looked deep in thought and frankly, not very happy thought. Hmmmm.

Quite suddenly the sun was gone and the fog dropped down around my car and I thought, "Oh, fog. That is about right." I glanced to my left and saw the mission's destination. The building seemed to jump out at me from across the highway where it sits on the frontage road. Oh, already here. Hmmm, again.

I take the exit, then the roundabout, and come to a full stop, not a California stop and look both ways. Slowly and very carefully. Pleasantly, I wave someone through the intersection. I am on the frontage road.

I have had this feeling before. I do not like it. I do not like it. I do not like it. I slow down and take a deep breath. And say to myself, "Just keep driving and look for the entrance, go in and park and oh, I know, use the restroom first... - Should I also comb my hair, put on a bit of gloss?"

I pull in. Park in a disappointingly familiar spot. Take a deep breath, lean back on the head rest, close my eyes and open the car door. Stepping out I am struck by... nothing. I cannot think of another thing to do, not one, except,..... go in the door. So I do.

I follow my plan, smile, and pleasantly ask for the restroom. She smiles, sort of, "Here for a pick-up?" I nod..... she directs me to the restroom. It smells faintly like cigarette smoke but is clean. Taking my time... ha. I wash my hands and wrinkle my nose.... I hate soap that smells like food... passion fruit... ick, more like wet fruit loops. Yes, that is what I thought at that moment, anything, think of anything except.

Exiting I walk to the office but from behind me I hear, "I'm over here." Right by the door, the exit. OK, this will be quick. I sign where indicated and she gestures to the Box on the mantel. "There 'he' is"., she says.... creepy.

Yes, it is my dad's ashes. I smile, sort of, and comment foolishly, - "Oh the Box is bigger than I thought." "Yes, she says avoiding my eyes, we usually use a MUCH smaller box but there was no way for him." I chuckle, sort of, "Yes he was a big guy."

I pick up the Box and
go. to. my. car.
I am walking in a daze. surreal.

I open the passenger door and set the Box down, now I am in a hurry, I want to leave fast. I jump into the seat, turn the key and begin to back up. And stop. All of the sudden I am overwhelmed with a strange feeling. I look to my left and see a woman, I look straight ahead and stare at the building. Then - I look to my right and look at the Box and say, right out loud....
"OK, so here WE are." I sigh, "I feel like I am supposed to DO something, but I don't know what it is! - any ideas?" (silence) I back the car out and drive away, Box there, and think...

Get a grip, think about what you know. And thankfully I can do that.

This is what I know and so this is what I think to myself.

He's not here, he is there and it is ok, (smiling) and wiping my (MY) tears away I go on because as I remind myself; when I woke up this morning I was filled with a deep sense of knowing that I had moved, beyond coping to Living again.

Living here, where I am and that is a good thing.

The Box? Yes I have it, sitting there on the shelf for another day. A day or a weekend, when we will gather and remember and scatter and cherish our memories and each other. And that will be fine, just fine.