*I Don't Want to Be a Martha

Whenever I hear the story from Luke about when Jesus went to the home of Mary and her sister Martha, I always squirm with discomfort.  (Luke 10: 38-42)  I think anyone who has read the story agrees that we should all strive to be like Mary. Just recently, I have become aware of how like Martha I have always been. Like Martha, I welcome guests into my home.  That's a good thing. Like Martha, I get a little grumpy when there is so much to do to make guests feel welcome, and people like Mary sit around, enjoying the company while I slave away tidying up and preparing the food.  Um.  That's not a good thing.

I'm afraid that I identify a little too much with Martha.  If I had been there, I'd have been tossing things around in the kitchen, throwing icy glares at old Mary, sitting on her butt, talking to Jesus, while I would have been busy, busy, busy. 

Why can't I just be like Mary?  Why can't I just love the people around me, and let the details take care of themselves?  Why do I feel obliged to be like Martha?  

This morning, I realized that I can change.  My intention on this day of Thanksgiving is gratitude; for my blessings, for my family, for the opportunity to all be together.  I will invite peace into my heart, and allow others to help, while focusing on the people, not the things, for our holiday gathering. 

The house is relatively tidy; I can relax my goal for immaculate.  The worrisome bird is finally in the roaster. Whew.  I had a sleepless night over that little detail.  The sweet potatoes are ready for a little syrup and topping.  Slight assembly is all that is needed for our Pumpkin Trifle.  Everyone else is taking care of the rest.  It's time to relax and enjoy this beautiful holiday for what it is: a time to give thanks.

Yesterday I was on a roller coaster between blissful peace to frantic panic.  The morning was delightful with music and holiday lights and shopping.  The store was not overly crowded; I found everything I needed; I carefully selected some beautiful oranges to make some holiday potpourri for gifts.  Before driving home through the canyon, I treated myself to a Dirty Dr. Pepper (coconut syrup added), and I listened to XM stereo's Holly channel all the way home.  And then, just like that, my focus shifted.

Where were those oranges?  Oh, no.  I bought all of the wrong stuff for our Keurig?  Was the turkey thawing fast enough?  Our floors look streaky.  Should I set the tables now or in the morning?  I forgot to get canned yams!!!  We live over 30 miles from town.  As I crested the hill into Marysvale, Tugs convenience store came into view. I would buy their yams I had seen in the back of the store that morning.  Yes, they would be pricey.  No, I wasn't going to quibble about the money.  Yes, there would be much more prep since they were fresh.  No, I wasn't going to let that stop me.

I started to wrap the last of the presents.  Yes, our crazy family adds a little extra holiday to

Eric, in his fine Italian suit, with my friend Cindy and me. 1984

Thanksgiving by doing our gift exchange. Thanksmas, we call it.  And then I saw my mistake.  My brother Eric had asked for some warm winter socks.  I knew just where to get them.  Our local Ace hardware has a nice assortment of wool blend socks.  I had felt several pairs to find the softest ones, and I grabbed them.  Something you need to know about Eric...our family has always joked that he is our Mr. GQ, always carefully dressed. When he was a young adult, he saved very carefully from his job at Barnaby's Pizza to be able to afford his first complete Italian ensemble...from the fine leather shoes, to the fitted suit, to the shirt and tie.  He could have been a model.  My handsome brother always looked nice.

So, back to the socks.  What I had accidentally bought was DUCK COMMANDER socks.  Now, I love watching Duck Dynasty as much as the next retired school teacher, but I would NEVER buy my brother something with Uncle Si emblazoned on it, or the words HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY on the front.  So what did I do?  I bought my fashion-conscious brother two pairs of Duck Dynasty socks. Oh, well, we'll laugh about this later.  Like I said, we live quite a distance from town.  He's getting the socks.

All of the little problems were sorted out.  Bridger bought what we needed for the Keurig by running into town before coming home; I dug out the old, slightly dry Cutie tangerines to use in the potpourri, and we had a simple frozen pizza for dinner.  The three of us enjoyed some Charlie Brown holiday movies on Netflix before we all headed to bed.

Sleep is not my friend the night before holiday gatherings.  I still fret over the details.  What if the turkey isn't thawing properly?  How am I going to wrangle that 24 pound bird by myself with it covered in butter?  Why didn't I remember to bring the whipping attachment for the mixer from our other house?  So around two, I found myself re-reading recipe directions online, sipping Kava tea, hoping to return to sleep before dawn.

Now that the turkey is in the roaster, and I know that Mom is taking care of the whipped cream before she arrives, and I realize I only have about another hour of kitchen duties to take care of, my goal is to relax into the moment, and simply enjoy this day.  Soon our home will be filled with the fragrance of roasting turkey, and yummy citrus and seasonal spices. There will be laughter and teasing.  We will enjoy a delicious dinner consisting of my mom's yummy rolls, my brother's famous stuffing, and my sister's creamy mashed potatoes.  There will be dessert.  

Before we open gifts, each of us will take a turn to tell what we are grateful for.  We'll open gifts. Eric will be gracious when he opens his; you see, he's not just a classy dresser; he's just plain classy. We'll all clean up; there's never just one person doing it all, and for that I'm grateful.  I hope today we'll be a room full of Marys, enjoying each other's company and taking part in the holiday festivities.  We have a position for a Martha opening up in our family.  Any takers?

*Tai Chi

Slowly imitating the old man from Taiwan,

I lift my arms to the golden dome of leaves

as the sun slips behind the mountain.

The master of Tai Chi, so small and steady,

Holds his pose with balance and strength,

the epitome of meditation in motion.

Canadian geese call to us from overhead;

Children laugh with abandon in the distance.

Surrounded by the golden trees losing their autumn leaves,

We move silently, attempting the moves of the master.

Lost in the moment, embraced by the beauty

of the sky and the trees, 

I discover muscles long since forgotten

as I balance unsteadily on the grassy floor.

My breath brings me back to this moment.

One day, perhaps I will stand on one leg,

poised and strong, and be aware of nothing

beyond this moment.  For now,

I hear the geese, the children, the cars.

I think of concerns, and things to do.

Breathing the cleansing air through my nose,

my thoughts return to this place and time, and

I realize that living in this moment is all there is.

*Iron Deficient

Ironing is something I have not done in such a long time. When clothes are wrinkled, that means only one thing: they need to spritzed with water, and popped back in the dryer. I always try very hard to catch the clothes in their cool-down phase of drying so that I can hang them up immediately to avoid wrinkling the fabrics. In moments of desperation, I've been known to use my hair styling flat iron, while wearing the clothes that need to be pressed.

There was a brief period of time, about a decade ago, when I would set up my ironing board on Sunday night while the family watched a movie, and I would iron five outfits for the week.  The habit was short-lived, and I once again found myself spritzing laundry, and popping it back in the dryer if it seemed too frumpy to wear.  While clothes shopping, I search diligently for labels that say "wrinkle-resistant," or "no iron."  Imagine my delight when those crinkly, wrinkly skirts were in fashion. Not only did they NOT require ironing, they required being twisted tightly during drying to maintain the "look."  That fad didn't last long, much to my dismay.

A few years ago, I decided to try to revive my Sunday night ironing routine. First, I needed a board that didn't wobble. I picked out one with the latest visual art trend, "Subway art," in soothing blues and greens, utilizing a variety of fonts to display the many words related to ironing.  

The first time I set up the board, filled the iron with water, and smoothed out the shirt, I realized how soothing it was to simply focus on the task at hand. My favorite Classic R & B station was playing in the background, and I just got lost in ironing away the wrinkles in the fabric. I creased the collars, the back pleat, and the sleeves. I methodically covered the large areas of fabric, steaming away the wrinkles. It was rewarding to watch each section of the shirts become smooth and wrinkle-free.

Talk about dwelling in the moment. It is nearly impossible to multi-task while ironing. Both hands are needed, and care needs to be taken to avoid getting burned. It's just the iron, the clothes, and me. This simple chore is about as close to meditation as it gets for this frenetic, scatter-brained girl. I was totally caught up in what I was doing, and I let my mind go blank. It was almost like having an out-of-body experience, observing the ironing of the shirt, and yet being aware that I was fully present during those moments. 

What simple tasks bring you pleasure? Perhaps there are other little chores, once we lose ourselves in them, that could become something more. If I can find joy, so to speak, in ironing, maybe I could also find it in other household tasks. Being retired, and having a husband who wears business casual clothes to work, I find ironing unnecessary again, but maybe I could lose myself in washing my dishes, folding my laundry, and dusting my furniture. My house would be cleaner, and I could enjoy the process more. Living fully in the moment has the potential for making every moment special, even everyday tasks like ironing.

*Let Go of Worry

Living in this moment, living in the now, is one of life's greatest challenges.  To be fully present is to savor this moment for what it is:  the gift of life.  It requires setting worries aside and putting sadness behind you, for worry belongs to the future and sadness belongs to the past.

Worries are things unknown, unexperienced; imagined fates we envision to be much worse than they ever will be.  When terrible things come to pass, and they will, they deserve our full attention.  Somehow being in the trenches of our darkest hour is much more manageable than we ever dream it could be.  Our imagination makes our demons more vicious, our futures much darker, our concerns so much worse.

Sadness occurs when we mourn our past.  Things have changed that we wish hadn't. When I am overcome with dread or anxiety, I find that my thoughts have drifted from the present moment to a time in the future, of which I know nothing.  When sadness overtakes me, I find that once again, I am not living in the now, but am thinking about a moment before this one, that caused me sorrow.

Inhale.  Slowly.  Exhale.  More slowly.  That's it.  Remind yourself that at this particular time you are safe.  You are okay.  You are managing. You dwell in possibility, but you do not fear.  Fear is useless.  Even when everything around you screams chaos, when you focus on your breathing, you realize that the only thing over which you actually have any control is your reaction to the chaos.  As long as you are breathing, and focusing on your breath, all is well.  Find a mantra that calms you.  "Serenity" is my chosen mantra because it soothes me to say it.  It is all I hope to find when I am facing difficulties in life.

One of my friends made the plaque pictured above for me.  "Live in this moment."  It reminds me every day, to focus on what matters.  People matter.  Charity matters.  Family matters.  This moment matters, and what I do with it will determine how I feel about how I've lived my life.  Each life is simply a series of all of the moments that comprise it.

In this moment, I live in gratitude knowing my children are safe and happy.  They may be experiencing trials of their own, but they are dealing with them.  I am grateful for the relative good health of my parents.  I know that I am safe, and that I am okay.  Living a life of awareness and appreciation for each moment as it comes is my goal.  It will always be a challenge, but when I focus on what is truly important, I always find myself content and peaceful.  Serenity is mine for the asking, if I simply live in this moment, not in the past, which can't be changed, and not in the future, which I cannot control.  Right here, right now, is exactly where I need to be.

Wherever You Are, Be There...An Open Letter to the Mamas

First day of school for three of us...another day of work at UDOT for Dylan.

Dear Working Mama,

If you have never felt exhausted, confused, or hopeless, may God continue to bless you. If like most of us who have mothered little ones, you have longed for adult conversation, or having an uninterrupted phone conversation, or an uncluttered home, we can commiserate together. Whether you are working outside of your home, or working within the four walls of your house, no one will debate that you ARE a working mother. The two words go together. Those of us who have been there know the battle that takes place in your head every day. You wish there were two of you.  You work so hard, and you want to be the best mother you can be.

This letter originally was written to the young teachers at our school who have young children at home. I believe there is something here for all of us as mothers, no matter the particulars of our circumstances.  

First of all, know that you are not alone. Many before you have attempted, and many after you will attempt, to do the seemingly impossible. Balancing your life at work, and your life at home may seem to be too much at times. Take a deep breath. You can do this.

I would like to share my secret for surviving this busy time of your life. There was a little mantra that helped me endure the craziest time of my life. I had a 9 year old, a 7 year old, and a little one on the way. I was just trying to survive teaching first graders all day long, and attend classes for my master's degree at night and on the weekends, and somehow meet the needs of my small family. I said this over and over to myself during that time: WHEREVER YOU ARE, BE THERE. 

Made by Justine Childs, Vintage Hearts
Now in Eau Claire, Wisconsin

A friend of mine made this stitched quote for me. I kept it in my kitchen where I would see it frequently. During times when my mind was fretting about school at home, it helped me focus. When I was at school, and my mind would worry about things undone at home, that quote would come back to me, and I would return to the present moment.  

It helps, it really does. How else can you be a good mom, good wife, and a good teacher? It won't do at all to fret about school while you're rocking that precious baby, or wishing your children wouldn't take so long to get to sleep so you can spend some precious adult time with your husband, or worrying about your own kids while you're in front of a classroom full of students. 

"Wherever you are, BE there."

When your littles are tucked in bed, totally be the wife. When you go to work, totally be the teacher. Immerse yourself in that classroom, trusting your carefully chosen daycare provider, and your children's teachers to take care of your own children. When you are at home, totally be the mom. Don't even THINK about checking papers or making phone calls to your students' parents. Lock your school door at the end of the day and be done with it. Go home, be the mama, and love those little babies like only you can. 

You are an amazing woman, and probably don't need to hear my little sermon...but I promise, saying WHEREVER YOU ARE, BE THERE, and living in the moment was my only lifeline to sanity some days. It won't be easy, and some days will be harder than others, but you are strong. You can do this.

From a Mama Who's Been There

The stitched piece is right behind me on the shelf.  "Wherever you are, be there."  Living in the now
allows us to focus our positive energy in whatever situation we find ourselves.  

*The Journey (The Poem that Rocked Me to the Core)

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  The Journey 

  
  

  A Poem by Mary Oliver

  
  

  
  

  One day you finally knew

  what you had to do, and began,

  though the voices around you
  

  their bad advice---

  kept shouting though the whole house

  at your ankles.

  began to tremble and you felt the old tug

  But you didn't stop.

  "Mend my life!" each voice cried,

  with its stiff fingers

  You knew what you had to do, though the wind pried

  was terrible.

  at the very foundations--- though their melancholy It was already late

  but little by little,

  enough, and a wild night, and the road full of fallen branches and stones.

  and there was a new voice,

  as you left their voices behind, the stars began to burn through the sheets of clouds, which you slowly

  determined to do

  recognized as your own, that kept you company as you strode deeper and deeper into the world, the only thing you could do---

  determined to save

  the only life you could save.

  
  

  
  

  
  

  This poem shook me alive as I read it. I felt someone had peered into my very soul, and had written my feelings down for me. There were some who were hurt by my decision to end my 22 year marriage a few years ago, but I have never known the depth of inner peace and happiness I have had in my heart since that time.  

  
  

  This much I know: the very night I moved out of the big farmhouse where I had raised my children, and into my own little house, I was blessed with a confirmation I had made the right choice for me. Insomnia has been my demon through most of my adult life. How would I be able to sleep all alone in that unfamiliar place? Without so much as a sleeping pill, that night I fell into a deep, peaceful sleep. I didn't awake until daylight was peeking through the windows. The bulging knots of tension in my shoulders were gone; the upset stomach and pounding headache had disappeared; I had slept through that whole night. The peace that entered that little home were signs to me that for all the things I may or may not have done well, I had done this one thing right. Heaven had blessed me with the knowledge that I had made the best decision for me at that time.

  
  
  

  
  

  Last night, I was haunted in my dreams the uncomfortable ghosts of my past; feeling the harsh judgement of others; trying to appear happy when I was not; experiencing the loneliness all over again. Confusion and conflicting emotions were the overriding themes in my dream that are still with me as I try to wake up, and live in this moment.

  
  
  

  
  

  Living in the now continues to challenge me. I feel irritable and somewhat angry that I would allow something that isn't even real to overshadow the reality, which today is better than that dream. My head is pounding. It is so hard to convince my brain that not only was all of that in the past and it is OVER, it was JUST A DREAM.

  
  
  

  
  

  My journey continues. Of course, there are challenges. I am just grateful for the lessons I've learned along the way. I am finding my voice. I am learning that in order to truly love and be of service to others, I have to love and take care of myself first. That is a tricky thing for most women. We put everyone else first, to the detriment of ourselves at times.

  
  
  

  
  

  Dwelling in THIS moment, I am grateful for many things. My children bless me by living their lives independently, and making this world a better place with their values, strength, and laughter. My friends continue to buoy me up when I falter, and need support. My cup runneth over.

  
  
  

  
  

  I am grateful for another sunrise that will help me erase the troubling thoughts from the night. Routines will begin anew, and before I know it, that old dream will be a fading memory. The prayer in my heart will be that I will have learned enough from my past that I won't repeat the same mistakes, and that I will control my thoughts to the point that I will fully immerse myself in the peace that this moment in time offers me. Mmmm...it's there, just waiting for me to come back into it.

  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
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The Mantra of a Massage: Keeping My Brain in the NOW

Flatirons, Boulder, Colorado

How hard is it to empty a head and just be? For me, it takes super-human strength and is as elusive as a Walmart associate when you need one. There are rare times I try to find this meditative state; when I pray and when I am the recipient of a massage. A certain degree of attention deficit has always been with me, so I find both of these activities very challenging to do without incessant brain chatter from the voices inside my head.  

Today was my lucky day; my favorite masseuse Melissa at Massage Envy was available at a time I could actually be there.

I like Melissa.  She asks enough questions for me to feel like she knows what I need and cares about me, but not so many I want to wring her neck and remind her that I am PAYING to de-stress here!  She is a single mom who shares just enough information to make her approachable, but not so much as to make me feel like I need to friend her on Facebook.

As I sank into the soft sheepskin pad on the padded table that was covered with a luxurious sheet, I reminded myself to just BE here today.  Don't try to solve all of the world's problems; don't review all the to-do lists in my head.  Just clear the mind and relax into the experience.

There are certain "touchstones," if you will, that help me remain present.  The things that seem to work best are focusing on my own breathing, the touch of the masseuse, and the music. My breath, taken in and then released, deeply and slowly, is my favorite way to bring me back to this moment.   If I am truly to benefit from the massage, I believe that to pay attention to where her hands are on my body is a good way to stay in the now.  New Age music is typically piped into the rooms of any spa for the relaxation and enjoyment of its clients.  Instrumental music without lyrics helps me dwell in the moment.

Ahhhh...as her oiled hands slipped down my aching spine, I envisioned the skin on my shoulders and upper back to be taut and smooth, and the flesh she was smashing toward my glutes probably resembled a puddle of Shar-pei wrinkles gathering in voluminous piles.  Shar-pei dogs are so adorable. We saw that cute one in San Diego, waiting for his owners to finish their dinner at a sidewalk cafe. Oops. Deep breath in...and slowly out.

Melissa's fingers expertly find the knots in my shoulder.  As she palpates the tender areas to release the tension, my muscles start to relax and enjoy her touch. And on to the next one. Ouch! Sometimes she presses deeply, concentrating with one or two fingers on the tightness that is there. If only I weren't such a klutz. That shoulder injury has been there for almost three years.

It was a snowy winter Saturday and I had just let our Boston Terrier outside to take care of his business.  I followed him onto the deck, but only walked onto the first icy stair when my feet flew out from under me. As I careened down the steps on my butt, my right arm flew high into the air behind me, and...sigh.  This relaxation is hard work.

Clearing my mind, I try to look at the back of my eyelids.  It's very dark. There's nothing there. That's the point. NOTHINGNESS is what I want to focus on for the time that I am here. In my mind's eye, I see calm and relaxation flutter over me like a gauzy blanket.  I take in another breath, slow and deep, and notice the warmth of Melissa's hands gliding over my back.

"I was going to ask if you're getting ready to go back to school..." she says in a soft voice. I feel my body tighten. "But then I remembered, you've just barely retired.  Are you happy about that?" 

I relax. "Yes," I whisper, smiling as I say it.  Usually a one word response is all the cue she needs to know I'm not up for too much visiting at the moment. Pretty soon, I'm lost in the darkness behind my eyelids and the tumbling thoughts in my brain.

The soft New Age music has an oriental quality to it.  There are wooden flutes, and some very strange stringed instrument that is starting to annoy me.  It sounds like the thickest string on a guitar, very loose, and vibrating with a reverberating TWANG at varying intervals!  New Age music.  I have a few tracks on my iPod.  I should set up a new playlist...I could label it "New Age..." DUH.  Or just "Easy Listening..." so that I can...A-HEM...another deep breath in and out.  A new song is playing. Thank heavens. I certainly didn't want to focus on that LAST one.  It was so annoying.

I've requested that Melissa focus on my back and glutes today. My shoulders and lower back are always aching with stress and knots.  She is doing such a good job.  Again, I let the moment wash over me, taking in the sensory experience for what it is...human touch, skin on skin, taking in the positives and releasing the negatives, listening to the soft music that is filling the room.

Before I knew it, Melissa had pulled the soft blanket up to cover my shoulders, and asked how everything went.  "It was wonderful.  I feel great," I smiled up at her.  It really was a nice experience.  Meditation is a work in progress for me.  I did better today than some days, believe it or not. There is always room for improvement with me, it seems.

Deepak Chopra has this to say about meditation:  "Meditation is not a way of making your mind quiet. It's a way of entering into the quiet that's already there - buried under the 50,000 thoughts the average person thinks every day." 

I certainly have my share of the 50,000 thoughts, now I just need to find the quiet. If Deepak says it's there, it must be!

Surrender to the Moment

In the moments that I stood outside in the chill of the winter's morning air, I forced myself to breathe deeply, and surrender to the moment: the cold, the dark, the silence, the contrast of the stars against the black blanket of sky. The wisp of a moon cast a soft glow behind the silhouette of limbs. There was not a rustle of leaves; there was no city's glow. Just the stars and I were witnesses to the waning night. The faint beginning of a new day was erasing the blackness overhead, loosening its grip on the night.

How I love the early morning, and the subtlety of the changes, barely perceptible to my senses so accustomed to the blatant barrage of sights and sounds throughout the day.

Be still in the silence. Listen to the quiet, and notice the nothingness of the night. Allow yourself to experience this apparent emptiness until it starts to expand your spirit, and you become aware of the fullness and richness it brings into your spirit. Sweet, precious night evolving into the dawning of another blessed morning. Namaste, indeed.

(January 12, 2013)