"Happiness is..."

To get my blog out of its bloggy slump and to connect with some other bloggers out there in blogland (and because Heather of the EO is doing it), I've decided to join Momalom for their current Five for Ten event. (Except it's day 3, and I'm a bit behind...)

Today's topic is "Happiness is."

I'm having a lot of trouble with this one (I know, I just got started, and already I'm having trouble) because I so very seldom use the word happy. I try to focus on joy, on contentment. When I think about the things I wish for my children, I want them to be happy for sure, but even more than happiness I want them to be content with their lives, to be satisfied, to be fulfilled. In the words of Thoreau, I want them to "live deliberately...to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life." Sometimes that isn't always happy work. It's complex and confusing, often arduous and sometimes painful.

"Happy," for me, conjures up images of neatly wrapped packages all tied up with pretty bows. Sometimes we receive those packages in life. And it's beautiful when we do. It's lovely to receive one of those gifts and have the excitement of unwrapping what's inside. It's lovely to have one of those moments when everything is tied up neatly, just for that moment, shimmering and sparkling and just plain pretty. But that's exactly what they are...just moments. It's not a whole lifetime of one beautiful present after another. Often our gifts come plainly wrapped with little fanfare, and we have to work for them. We have to dig up the treasure, get some dirt under our fingernails, sweat a little. And that, I think, is where the real joy comes from, the contentment that isn't just skin-deep happiness.

What it really comes down to for me is that life is really about people. It's about loving others out of the overflow of God's love for us. And loving others, although it can be filled with happy moments, is not always happy work. The depth and strength of the love we build when we endure life's less-than-happy moments is where we find true contentment and fulfillment. It is the true lifeblood, the marrow, of our lives.

*****************************

Choosing Grace

Mango and I have been in a wonderful groove lately, really in sync and delighting in the steadiness and abiding love that marks this year of "us," even as life has dealt some serious blows. Something that always gets me, though, is the way I feel so guilty for the times that haven't been this good, for all the million ways I've failed. I feel loss for the times that could have been better if I'd only known this or that or been able to do this or that. I need some peace from this, some release from the guilt. The author of Passionate Marriage once said to a couple who lamented the lost years something to the effect of, "What makes you think you could have done this any sooner?" He was speaking of how all things come together to propel us toward the growth, how the place where we find ourselves is a culmination of all that came before.

Mango said to me the other day that he feels I've been more unconditional in my love for him recently than any other time in our marriage. Instead of taking this for a compliment and a statement of growth, I immediately felt guilty that I hadn't given him more of that before, that he hadn't felt it, didn't know it. Here I spend all this time writing about loving our partners unconditionally, and I have failed my own. It's exactly this kind of thinking, though, that makes things worse, that derails us from this beautiful groove, because it becomes all about me and how bad I feel. I get all hung up on wanting to be perfect, on wanting everything to have always been perfect instead of rejoicing in what we have now, in what we have become. I realize that I'm not a good partner when I feel this way, when I'm wallowing in my guilt and insecurities...which makes me feel more guilty and insecure...which inhibits my ability to just love freely and openly. I get defensive and fearful, feel the need to hunker down and protect my fragile self. It isn't pretty.

Mango offers me grace, loves me for who I am at this moment, revels in the growth we both have accomplished, and offers no judgment for the could-have-beens. He offers me a portrait of God's grace, draws on the unconditional One to extend unconditional grace to me. Why I struggle so hard against this grace is such a mystery to me. Why don't I just accept what is FREE, so freely given? For this is what defines grace - that it is free and undeserved. You'd think my greedy human heart would grab at this. After all, I love the free coupons in my Blue Sky guide, love Ben & Jerry's free ice cream days. Yet, I cannot easily accept the free-est and most free-ing gift of all. Instead I clutch my insecurities, anxieties, and imperfections like security blankets. I give guilt a free ride while failing to accept my own freedom. Why? Why do I need to CHOOSE grace? Acceptance of such a free gift ought to be as natural as breathing. But it isn't.

I don't know why I need to choose what is free, but today I am making a choice. I accept this beautiful place for what it is, trying not to get caught up in the could-have-beens. I choose to accept grace for this moment...and all the previous moments...in order to enjoy today, to love and be loved, to offer to Mango and Mane and Vespera and Niteo a wife and mother and friend who is alive and present and whole.

...and I will try to make the same choice tomorrow...

Untitled

Not to be dramatic, but tonight is my last night before becoming an oncology patient. I have all the phone numbers ready, insurance plan figured out, and I'll be making an appointment in the morning.

As far as I know, I don't have cancer at this very moment. But I did 2 months ago...before I had my appendix removed. The doctor called last week with the pathology report. There was a carcinoid tumor in my appendix.

I haven't been able to write about it because I feel as though I should have a way to wrap my post up neatly somehow, like a little package with a bow on top. I can't wrap this one up. I can't even get my brain around it. I know who I am and who I have been called to be. And I'll just keep living those things.

I feel as though my world has tilted. I'm suddenly thinking a lot more about making the most of each moment, recognizing each day as the gift that it is...being grateful for love, for my family, for good food, soft clothes, the fireplace in my living room, and biodegradable soap. I don't know why those things in particular right now.

You see, we already had one near-miss last week. Mango was in a car accident that totaled our car. He kept apologizing, though it wasn't his fault, and I kept telling him that I'm just so grateful to have him here. I wouldn't care if it was his fault. I just want him here. I cannot get enough of him, being near him, hearing his voice, holding his hand, sleeping next to his warm self. Last night we made a fire and lay on a sleeping bag on the living room floor, just chatting and laughing and reading a little together. What I wouldn't give for the rest of my life to look like that.

The news about the tumor came the day after the car accident, the day we bought a new car (a minivan, by the way, but that's another story). We felt grateful for both of our near-misses. The tumor would have grown and it would have been too late if it hadn't been for the appendicitis. And maybe the appendicitis was God's way of telling us that it wasn't an ulcer. You see, the symptoms of a carcinoid tumor look an awful lot like an ulcer. If we'd kept treating it as an ulcer, we still wouldn't have found the tumor. The appendicitis saved me. Ironic, huh?

In any case, my dear, sweet Mango is here with me still. And I with him. And we are blessed to have Mane and Vespera and Niteo, our children, all three here with us in our snug house. We have been given much.

I'm still afraid. And I'm angry and frustrated and tired. But I'm hopeful, too. And not despairing. This is what life on the edge is always about...living with ambiguity, never getting too comfortable. It keeps me grateful, keeps me in the moment. Uncomfortable. Exhausted.

That's it. No neat wrapping paper or pretty bows.

Would you, if you could?

If you could eliminate the emotional pain of a difficult or traumatic event in your past (without actually getting rid of the memory), would you do it? Think of the worst, most difficult, tragic, painful experience you've evre had and the ways in which it still affects you today. What if you could still remember but you could neutralize the emotions attached to the memory? You could get rid of the depression/anxiety/tears/pain/fear/embarrassment or whatever it is that comes with the memory. It seems so often that the emotions attached to traumatic or difficult experiences affect our ability to live a whole and healthy life. We make poor choices out of the woundedness and scars.

I'm reading a book called The Promise of Energy Psychology, which claims that through the stimulation of a sequence of accupressure points, the scenario I just described in the previous paragraph can happen - remember the trauma without the emotions. A person can eliminate phobias, anxiety and post traumatic stress by calling up the memory while interrupting the emotional response of the limbic system by massaging or tapping pressure points. Those with experience in this type of therapy say that the whole procedure takes only a few minutes and the effects are long lasting. People who have been through this type of therapy report that they are still free of their emotional distress even 2 years later.

At first, this seems entirely too good to be true. My first response was to say OF COURSE I want to get rid of the anxiety and depression I experience. OF COURSE, I want to stop feeling the upset whenever I recall particular instances of childhood trauma. I want to stop living with the drive to be perfect and the fear that I'm going to totally mess things up. I know that much of the fear is driven by painful life experiences. What if I could interrupt the emotional response and, thereby, the unhealthy behaviors?

The book gives examples of energy therapy working to relieve phobias. This seems pretty wise to me. And, yet, the book also mentions that people who have been treated for phobias often end up with even less of an emotional response to the object of the phobia than the general population. For example, a person with a fear of heights might eliminate their phobia and then some. Generally, people have some physiological response to heights, keeping them alert and cautious. The book says that the treated person with have less response then most of us but still have a healthy caution. This leads me to 2 questions. First, HOW does the treatment stop at a "healthy caution?" Who defines that? How do we know what degree of caution is healthy? And, second, what if the response of the average person is actually healthy and a certain degree of fear is necessary to keep us safe? Do we really want to deprogram our hard-earned responses that have taught us how to be safe? Of course, phobias are generally unhealthy, and we want a more balanced response, but can we garuntee that this type of therapy automatically stops at a good balance, a healthy place?

The book also gives an example of a woman who was raped by her stepfather at a young age. In one meeting with her energy therapist she went from shaking, flushed, crying, rapid breathing, and over-all very upset to calmly stating that the rape was a long time ago, it didn't have power over her any more, she is old enough to protect herself now, and she is able to protect her own children. Basically she went from very upset to telling herself and her therapist that there was really nothing to be upset about and she's over it now. Two years later the therapist followed up with her, and she still had no emotional response to recalling the rape. She had been able to "move on" with no depression, anxiety or post-traumatic stress.

This last story seems ideal on the one hand and scares me to pieces on the other. It doesn't seem right somehow. It seems to take some of the humanity out of the person. We were made to feel. God created us with a limbic system, an emotional response system, with the capacity for love and joy...and pain and sadness. And feelings serve a purpose - to protect us, to teach us, to connect us to others. What happens to a person's compassion if they disconnect or neutralize their emotions related to pain or trauma? I'm entirely in favor a balance and learning to come to a balanced place with emotional responses. I do see how getting lost in the haze of our emotional over-response leads to unhealthy and even destructive choices sometimes. I get that there are sometimes reasons to take medication to balance emotional responses. I understand that brain chemistry is a powerful thing. I'm scared stiff by a therapy that ELIMINATES the negative emotions. How can it do that?

Even considering the possibility that this might be possible brought me to some conclusions that I feel somewhat ambivalent about. I've learned a lot. I guess it upsets me that I had to endure some kind of trauma to come to some profound realizations, but it seems to be the case. I've learned things about God and faith, life, community, families, and even my own capacity for love, joy and sacrifice through the really painful things in my life. And much of the learning has happened through actually feeling the pain. If I had done some energy work to change my emotional response, I'd feel fine, but I wouldn't be the same person I am today. I wouldn't think as hard about things. I wouldn't know the depth that's out there, that's available to me.

And there's something else, too. If I hadn't been wading my way through so many tough emotions, I wouldn't have experienced the love and compassion of my Mango in the same way. I wouldn't know the depth of his love for me. I wouldn't know about love so deep and fierce, so patient and gentle, so persistent and unwavering. I wouldn't know who he really is on the inside. Maybe he learned something, too, about his own capacity for love and sacrifice.

Yes, I think people were made to feel. And nothing about feeling is clean and neat or simple.

I still have a lot of questions. I mean, if God made us with pressure points that change the flow of energy in our bodies and neutralize emotional reactions, maybe there's something valuable to be had there. Maybe it's not so all or nothing as the vibe I'm getting from the book I'm reading. It probably isn't. It's been a journey for me to process this, though...to think about the role that broken and desperately painful emotions have played in my life. I know I haven't experienced the worst pain out there, either, and I wouldn't ever fault anyone for seeking salve for their wounds, balm for their bleeding emotions. Who could find fault with that? I can only say what I say here from the other side, for the most part. More days than not, I'm free from the emotional fallout of painful memories. What if I hadn't found the other side yet? What if no other side was in sight? Ultimately, I am left with more questions that answers.

What would you do?

No Impact Man

Mane & I (and possibly the rest of the family) are going to see No Impact Man at the Walker Art Center this evening, and I am SO EXCITED. As Mane was reciting Psalm 23 to me this afternoon, I was thinking of how full of the natural world that Psalm is:

The Lord is my shepherd
I shall not be in want
He makes me lie down in green pastures
He leads me beside quiet waters
He restores my soul

Truly, what restores our souls like a walk beside quiet waters? The poet Psalmist knew the way that green growth and clear water speak to the human soul. It's circular, I think, the way that these things restore us and turn our hearts to God and the way that God leads us to these things in order to be restored. They are the tangible bits of God in the universe, our way to see glimmers of God's personality and desires for us.

I've found that this biking experiment has been restorative for me in a similar way. In the city, biking doesn't really bring one closer to nature...or, at least, not any more than it brings one closer to asphalt and concrete. But it frees us to live in closer relationship to the world around us, and it does reduce our negative impact on the natural world that God created. God created us to be relational beings, as God is also a trinity, constantly in relationship. Rushing around (car or no car) is not conducive to relationships, with each other or with the natural world. I feel significantly less rushed since making an intentional effort to drive less. I think it has something to do with planning only what we actually have time for and leaving plans more open-ended to give time to get there and back. I don't think driving less is the only way to learn that lesson, but it was the way for me to learn it right now. And it restores my soul...

Biking is a baby step for me, a very do-able way to live more gently, to slow down, to take care of the world that God made for our enjoyment, delight, and restoration. No Impact Man tells a more extreme story, long strides, lots of sacrifice. I'm looking forward to being challenged. Mane has already asked for us to begin composting our food waste, something I've been too lazy to explore. I'd like to instill in her a love for creation, along with a love for the Creator, and I'm going to let her youth and belief that nothing is impossible challenge me, too. A restoration challenge...for me and for creation.

I'm making things up...

Yesterday when I posted about Winter, I was feeling so positive, like I was ready to tackle something...

Yeah.

And by the end of the day I was crying to Mango, "I have a Master's Degree and my life's goal is to have all the laundry done." Yep, you heard me. I was crying about laundry.

Well, not really.

I was whining about how hard it is to feel like I actually ever DO anything because everything I do needs to be done again - grocery shopping, dinner, laundry, mopping, washing the bathroom mirror. And the other things I do are so hard to see - the books I read to Mane, the time spent teaching math and reading, bike rides to keep us both strong and healthy (and to save the planet while we're at it). And those things look far too much like FUN. So, I feel like I should be working harder. I should be DOing something. I should be able to stay on top of the bills and advertise for my childbirth classes and generally make life perfect and peaceful for everybody in my house.

And if life is not perfect and peaceful for everyone in my house, I shouldn't be blogging or reading books for fun or posting on a message board.

Hmmffff...

It really makes no sense does it? If I run myself into the ground getting everything done then I'll be...well...smushed into the ground. Which kind of negates whatever it was I was trying to do, right? Still, it gets so hard to fight that feeling sometimes.

So, this post is to remind me (and all the other mothers reading here) that we are doing something. The fruit of my work isn't as tangible as other work, but it flowers quietly in things like the attachment I share with my children. And just because what I do can't be SEEN well from the outside doesn't mean I'm not DOing anything. And it doesn't mean I can't be tired. Or need a little time to do something just for me.

There. I needed a pep talk.

Where did this come from?

I surprised even myself the other day by saying that I am looking forward to Winter. Yes, indeed. Winter with a capital "W" because that's what Winter is in Minnesota. I don't know why I said it, but I found myself believing it to be true.

I didn't always hate Winter, but Winter and I have certainly seen some tough times. Last year, though, my family went out skiing/snowboarding and sledding. We bundled up and went OUT in the Winter. I know I'm repeating myself, but Mr. Bicycle said that he always hated Winter until he got out into it. Now he loves it. There is something that happens inside of us when we choose to experience something...to let it be what it is and simply face it.

I guess maybe this is just another lesson for me in letting go, in not having to be so in control all the time. I cannot control my children, my husband, immigration, or Winter. So, I'd better just get down to the business of releasing those things from my grip. I can do what I can do and nothing more.

I can do nothing less, either. It's my job and responsibility to take care of those things as much as I can and THEN let them go. What does taking care of Winter mean? For me, it means taking care of myself in Winter - vitamins, exercise, sunshine, OUTings (both with friends and OUTside). And it means trying to focus on the things I love about Winter (don't ask me to love immigration, though, ok?).

What do I love about Winter? I absolutely love it that we finally live in a house with a fireplace! I love reading a book by the fire, reading aloud to Mane by the fire, visiting with friends, playing games, and writing blogs by the fire! I love bulky cable knit sweaters, the denim quilt that I made, snowmen, sledding, skiing, snow angels, clear skies, bright stars, and not having to mow the grass. Even as the darkness drives me crazy, I like the way it pulls us in, pulls us closer together around the lights and the warmth in our home.

I have a friend who visited her sister in Sweden last year in the Winter. In January in Sweden it gets dark around 3pm. My friend said that the Swedish people try to embrace the darkness. They try to rest once it's dark and not turn on a bunch of electric light. They sometimes light candles to keep the evening quiet and soft until they're ready to sleep.

I cannot promise that I'll feel this way in January, but right now I'm practicing being open to what Winter brings. I am absolutely familiar with Winter Blues and Seasonal Affective Disorder. So, I'm not trying to say that changing my mindset will change everything or that it will change anything for anyone other than myself. Just knowing myself, though, this is a step in the right direction.

Stomach

Having a stomach is like having a baby.

Especially when that stomach has an ulcer.

It'll keep you awake at night. Though, as time passes, you'll get longer stretches of sleep.

You'll have to feed it at regular intervals. If you hold out too long for a feeding it'll get crabby and you'll have to spend some time settling it down.

You'll spend some time figuring out what it likes and doesn't like, learning what makes it upset and what calms it down. It can't talk and tell you what's the matter. So, you'll have to do some troubleshooting. Try one thing and then another. And never really know for sure why it turned out the way it did this time.

You'll read about it on the internet, ask your friends, and comb the library for information trying to be as informed as possible. Though you're still going to make mistakes. It's ok, though. We're all human. And what matters is that we learn from our mistakes.

You'll take it everywhere with you, cautiously introducing it to new situations.

You'll do the very best you can in hopes that it will all turn out alright in the end.

Yep, that's what it's like to have a stomach. Take good care of yours!

Happy Anniversary...or not...

Mango & I are approaching our 11th anniversary. We decided to celebrate while Vespera was off at camp. The plan was for Mane to stay with my mother Wednesday & Thursday nights last week. Mango & I would have the house to ourselves, we'd go walking downtown, we'd visit all the non-kid-friendly restaurants that don't have gluten-free menus (Mane needs to eat gluten-free), we'd stay up late and sleep in late...

So, we dropped Mane off at my mother's house, one hour away from our house. We got her settled in, chatted with my mom a bit, and climbed back into our car. The car wouldn't start. We sat there in stunned silence for a minute. Tried again. No go.

My mom made a pot of coffee and called the local mechanic. He guessed that the fuel pump went out. We called AAA. We upgraded our membership for $17 in order to get the car towed all the way back to Minneapolis without paying a huge towing fee. Then we waited for the towtruck...which didn't take all that long. Only about an hour. We rode with the driver back to the Saturn dealership in Golden Valley, admired his GPS and all the digital readouts in his fancy new truck, talked about marriage and kids, schools and unions...

Mango's dad picked us up from the dealership, and his parents took us out for dinner at A La Salsa at the Global Market. Yep, we started out spending our anniversary with Mango's parents. They're great, and they made us laugh after our crazy afternoon. Then we walked home on the Greenway, much to the chagrin of Mango's mother.

Thursday was beautiful. We picked up our car. (The sensor that tells the fuel pump to turn on was broken.) And we went to Minnehaha Cafe, a little coffee shop in a renovated gas station on the Ford Parkway. We pulled out the anniversary book and decided to write a list of all that has happened this year to spare us both from having to write it separately. We laughed and sighed and felt exhausted when we were finished.

After a tromp down along the Mississippi River, we parked our car at the Franklin light rail station and headed downtown where we visited the Foshay tower, went to the museum & walked all around the observation deck. Then we went for an early dinner at The Local. We went in search of a French Press in Uptown and then took some coffee shop snacks down to Lake of the Isles until it started to rain.

At home we snuggled up on the couch to watch The Golden Compass. We were happy and satisfied, looking forward to one more whole day together on Friday before we went to pick up Mane. Then we'd come home to plan some nice things for Vespera's homecoming on Saturday.

Except... I started feeling sick. Half and hour into the movie, we turned it off, and I tried to sleep. My stomach was in terrible pain. And I was getting sick over and over, losing liquids fast. At four in the morning we went to the emergency room since the pain was intolerable, and I was afraid something was horribly wrong. Five hours later I walked out with a tentative diagnoses. If the medication they prescribed actually worked to make me feel better, then it meant that I have an ulcer.

I lived Friday in a fog of pain medication, anti-nausea medication, and a sleep deprived headache. But I was getting better. Saturday morning I took one last pain pill, and I haven't needed more since then. The ulcer medication is working.

I have an ulcer. Happy anniversary.

So, for the next three months I'll take medication, and avoid coffee, alcohol, tomatoes, peppers, probably chocolate (though I haven't tested it yet), and basically anything spicy or acidic. And I'm supposed to eat at least 5 small meals a day to keep my stomach protected.

So, there you have it.

Our actual anniversary is still coming. I think we'll spend a quiet night reading books or something. *sigh*

to clarify

I just wanted to clarify that the previous post was not intended as advice for anyone considering having another baby. This is the place I'm in. It's where my head is at right now and how I'm thinking about babies for me and my family. My thoughts were prompted, in part, by Heather of the EO, who is talking about having another baby (see here ), and by the fact that my good friend at stories i tell just had a beautiful, sweet baby girl. But my post is not a reflection on either of them, either. It's just where my brain and my heart went with everything.

Thanks for reading my clarification. You may noW return to your regularly scheduled programming.

Let it Go

I've been musing for some time about babies...about baby cravings...about the way we women, especially, love those tiny hands and feet. We love those hot little bundles. And, I, at least, love those sweet little cloth diapers, the teeny clothes, the socks and blankets. Babies are beautiful, even irresistible.

And, from time to time, I think I might want one. A baby, that is. In part, I think I want one because I feel like it would be different this time. I'd try to enjoy being pregnant more. I'd actually take pictures of that big round belly. I wouldn't be so worried about getting everything right. I'm convinced I'd be able to relax and enjoy the baby more, convinced that I'd be able to really be in the moment. So I could remember. So I could take those things and ponder them in my heart. I think, too, though, that I just enjoy the baby softness, the sweetness, newness, innocence. Babies are just so special.

But I'm realizing something. As with most truly beautiful things, babies don't last. You'd have to have a new one every year to get to experience that uniquely "baby" specialness. I suppose God made us that way...to crave babies, to want to feel that babyness one more time. But, like sunsets and the ocean and camping trips and autumn colors, eventually we have to let go. We can't take them home in our pockets. So, we take pictures and memorize the moments and pray that we'll always remember, knowing we won't...not everything.

I know there won't be another baby of my own, barring some major act of God. Sometimes I'm sad about it. But I'm learning that our cravings for beauty, for newness are endless and insatiable. I'm not sure another baby would satisfy the craving. When that one grew up, I'd still be nostalgic for those tiny hands and feet. Always nostalgic, remembering.

And I'm learning something else about myself. When I look back, I always wish I had been more present, payed more attention, really enjoyed where we were at. I am continually reminding myself to just be here, just be. Because I know when I look back, I'll wish I remembered more, that I had taken it all in.

It seems we are given each moment, each beautiful poignant page in time, only to let it go. No single moment ever comes again. We can't keep any of them, can't hold on, keep the little ones small, keep the sun from setting, keep the leaves rustling in the trees in that particular way. We can only live that moment. And live it once. It's up to us to live it fully.

The balm is in the knowing that more moments will come. Life keeps coming. Pages turn. Our children have children. The opportunity to live is continually available to us until we take our last breath.

Fight the anxiety...Naturally

I wanted to share some of the things in my collection that I use for stress and anxiety relief, aside from blogging and journaling and a lot of prayer. I very much believe that we are whole human beings, meaning that mind, body & spirit are interrelated. Writing a blog or a journal, praying, and meditating on scripture attend to the mind and spirit, but these things can also bring healing to the body through the healing of the mind and spirit. Likewise, I believe that treating the body can sometimes bring healing to the mind and spirit. Who cannot relate to the way that a good night's sleep can change our whole outlook on life? Or the way that physical pain produces impatience and crabbiness. Alleviating the bodily ills brings healing, or, at the very least, makes way for healing in the mind and spirit.

So, here are the body remedies I use - aside from trying to eat well, sleep enough, and exercise regularly...



First, I do drink coffee. In moderation, coffee gives me a boost of mental clarity. This helps when I'm tired and mentally foggy. It's also a bit of a "comfort food" and helps me feel relaxed just by smelling good and sitting nearby in my favorite mug.

Too much caffeine, however, as we all know, can lead to restlessness and higher blood pressure. For me, it also creates too much stomach acid. So, I have to pay attention to my body, and stop when enough is enough. For me, this averages out at about 1 cup of coffee a day - some days 2 and some days none.

When anxiety (or too much coffee) has tied my stomach in knots, I drink teeccino:



Teeccino is full of naturally good-for-you ingredients, including lots of potassium for a healthy heart and a calmer nervous system. (Potassium is also good for menstrual cramps, as it's related to the ways that nerves and muscles fire messages.) The biggest perk for me is that teeccino is alkaline, meaning that it reduces stomach acid. AND you make it in a coffee pot, it looks and smells like coffee, and the flavor is very reminiscent of coffee.

My very favorite soothing drink, though, when I know I need a serious stress reliever is Kava Stress Relief by Yogi Teas.



It works. It's a little sweet, tastes good with cream, and also relieves minor aches and pain.

Finally, I've discovered Rescue Remedy.



I'm very much a skeptic with regard to this kind of thing. I don't know why. I just don't see how a little Bach Flower Remedy can help with real life anxiety. But, I can tell you this. I've used it 3 times in the past week, and it has worked within minutes. It's a short term homeopathic stress remedy. It worked so well I told my mom about it!

So, there you have it.

Philippians 4:6-8 says,
"Do not be anxious about anything,
but in everything,
by prayer and petition,
with thanksgiving,
present your requests to God.
And the peace of God,
which transcends all understanding,
will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Finally, whatever is true,
whatever is noble,
whatever is right,
whatever is pure,
whatever is lovely,
whatever is admirable—
if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—
think about such things."

Beauty

I have resisted writing about this for a long time because I'm really resistant, in general, to the way women talk about losing weight, dieting & exercise ALL THE TIME. For as long as I can remember, this is something that occupies the time and space of the lives of women, especially in America, WAY TOO MUCH. We could be doing other things, people. Saving the world, for example.

But I cannot hide my head in the sand and pretend 1) that the problem doesn't exist, or 2) that it doesn't affect me. The truth is that the problem exists in a horrifyingly big way in our culture. When someone tries to talk my 17-yr old, beautiful, soccer-playing, bike-riding, healthy, active, and incredibly strong daughter into dieting, I KNOW this culture has a problem. Do we even remember that women are supposed to have curves? That a little belly pooch means that our bodies have enough stored fat to carry babies, the way we were designed?

Yes, yes, I totally understand the flip side of this. I understand that obesity is an issue, that fast food, junk food, soda, candy, and huge portions are also an out-of-control problem in our society. I understand that people watch too much TV and play too many video games, which means they aren't getting the exercise they need.

We have a real crisis, though, when it's ok to eat junk and lie on the couch as long as you're skinny. See, the way I see it, people are only responding the the trouble with fast food and candy in as much as it applies to obesity. Very few people are actually talking about health. And when we talk about health, we act as though the only way to be healthy is to be thin.

I'd like to see the day when our standards of beauty embrace people of all kinds of shapes and sizes. And I'm making a concerted effort to at least set a different standard for beauty in my own home. We talk about being healthy, eating healthy, exercising to keep us strong and alert and happy, and taking care of our bodies in a way that makes us feel good about who we are (whether that's clothes or lotion or perfume or jewelry, whatever...). What I'd really like to do is think about some artwork that reflects real beauty. AND, I need to guard carefully the way I talk about myself because it affects my whole family.

You see, I'm really ok most of the time. I know that I haven't gotten enough exercise when I start complaining about the way I look because I feel pretty much ok when I'm healthy and active. When I'm not healthy and active I start to feel bad, and then I complain about how I look. And it's easy to go there because I grew up being told I was fat. It's really hard to let go of that. And now I'm watching my daughter go through it.

You know how they say that we all need 10 positive comments for every negative? One negative comment about appearance is SUCH a set-back for women. It takes so much reassurance to believe the people who say we're beautiful. It seems only natural to assume that the people who say the less pleasant things are the ones who are telling the real truth. In the area of beauty, though, it's more often that the people with the negative commentary have been brainwashed by our culture and are trying to feel better about themselves (by putting other people down or getting others to join them in their mostly unhealthy dieting plans).

Why is it that diet plans are so often completely unhealthy anyway?

What is it that I'm getting at? I'm trying to brainstorm how to protect my children from this mindset. If we work on this one household at a time, maybe we can save the world, eh?

And I want to put it out there that I'm on a quest for health. I've been dragging a little lately because moving to the new place has meant that I've gotten less exercise. Less exercise makes me want to exercise even less. Then I feel blah and depressed. Then Vespera gets depressed because I'm depressed and Mango gets worried and Mane gets crabby. AND, winter is coming, which means that we cannot afford to get all depressed now. We have a hard enough time getting through winter without all that.

I'm on a quest for health so that we can all make through the winter alive and joyful, healthy and strong, and feeling beautiful! This is going to involve some mental work as well as some physical work and a great deal of creativity. I'm ready to tackle it, though. Starting now. With me and my little family.

Old Friends

"Make new friends, but keep the old.
One is silver, and the other's gold."

Last night I had the great pleasure of being in the company of some of my golden friends, old friends from college. On polite days, we called ourselves the "Lounge Crowd" when we all went to Bethel College together. On less particular days we were the "Lounge Rats." Our theme song was,

"Brave rebels are we
Born to be free
Like fish in the sea"

We loved each other genuinely and without pretense. We tucked people in for naps on the couch, smoothed back hair when someone was sick, argued philosophy, theology and feminism together, edited each other's papers, gave honest opinions, supported each other in not caving to the COOL crowd. We read Winnie the Pooh stories and took many brief trips out for bagels and coffee when the rest of campus was attending chapel. We did a lot of other silly and attention-grabbing things. One friend chewed on pant legs, and she baaah-ed like a sheep whenever tour groups went by. There were some who climbed on the ledge above the lounge and shot peas down on everyone. We were all different from the mainstream crowd and fairly different from each other, and we were all very, very driven.

We were drawn together either by being post-secondary students or commuters or both. We "lived" in the lounge. During finals week we joked that we should pitch a tent. As it was, there were always one or two of us hanging around while others were in class, and there was always a pile a coats and winter boots and/or books, backpacks, and half-finished projects.

We counseled each other through relationships, caffeine withdrawal, and faith crisis. We were not always right, and we definitely weren't perfect...though I think all of us had some perfectionist tendencies. Looking back we see ourselves more clearly and smile wryly sometimes. We weren't who we are now...people who have experienced lots of growth and change, who have developed a better sense of direction and more defined values. But there's still this thread of genuineness, of honest integrity and appreciation of and for each other.

I hope that I can look back at other points in my life and see that I've developed friendships as solid and beautiful as the old ones. It seems that I have a couple of good friends from each "era" of my life...early childhood, high school, college. It seems that it's gotten harder as I've gotten older. Maybe there's just less time for staying up late or for running off to get coffee and bagels. Maybe I have to be more intentional because life is different. But friends definitely make my life richer. Last night was like being wrapped in a warm, familiar blanket. I'll be smiling about our little reunion for a long time.

Chocolove

This is, by far, the best chocolate I've ever had! From chocolove.com: "Ancho and Chipolte chilies supply the heat and dried cherries supply the sweet in this deliciously exciting chocolate. Initial chili flavors transition to deep sweet cherry and finish again on a pleasantly warm chili note."

If you like Mexican mole, you've got to try this chocolate...

That's all I have to say today. :)

Thoughts from the beach at Lake Superior...

Last week we camped...5 days, 4 nights...just on the outskirts of Duluth. We brought the whole family + Novio.

On Wednesday evening I sat on the rock beach watching the waves come in, nestled up close to Mango, the wind whirring in our ears. Mane collected "rock babies." Vespera and Novio sat quietly, first taking pictures and then just still and contemplative. My heart was so full I could have laughed or cried. Instead I poured out my thoughts to Mango, poured them into the wind and the waves.

I have always loved the passion and intensity of teenage emotion. I love that electricity. And I think we are faced with a couple of choices as we grow out of our teenage years. We can stop feeling all that intensity because it's heavy and difficult, because it's hard to be stable and cope with life at that level of emotionality all the time. OR we can allow ourselves to feel, to be fully alive. And, in being fully alive, we have so much more experience and depth to the emtional intensity that follows. It makes your heart feel like bursting so very often, but the joy is just as deep and intense. Sometimes I feel as though I might drown in my own heart, covered over by the depth of all that I've learned and experienced since those teenage years.

I was aware, sitting there on the beach, that Vespera and Novio were in the midst of one of those deeply emotional moments. Novio comes from the ocean, and surfing was his hobby. Since moving to Minnesota he has not visited a body of water so vast that you cannot see the other side. The water and waves of Lake Superior were both the wound and the balm at the same time. So poignant. So bittersweet. The waves washed up old memories, even while we were there creating new ones.

I asked if the Lake made him homesick. His answer was heavy but quick and direct, "Yes, but Vespera is here, and I want to be with her." And they curled into each other, one wave inside another.

I honor the depth and breadth and truth of the emotions that my child and her Novio held out there in the wind that evening, while also acknowledging that the strength and depth of my own emotions go deeper...just because I've lived longer and known more, because I know them AND I know me. The wild ride of learning that we have intense and passionate emotional selves that begins in the teen years is really only the beginning. I can keep a cap on it better now if I want to, but when I sit in that quiet created by the rushing wind and crashing waves and allow myself to feel, I know that I draw from a well that is deeper now than it used to be. And I am so glad. I feel as though so many people around me have forgotten how to really just be connected to the waters of passion and intensity, of life and vitality. And the lack of connection limits our ability to love, to know joy, to be loved.

I do wonder how this relates to our ability to know God and be loved by God. God is such a powerful, intense, and vast Being. We connect a little bit to that vastness in those in-between years when we're so full of life and vitality ourselves. So much gets lost in the race to be successful, to care for our families, to do the necessary day-to-day things that we forget. We forget to open our arms wide to the wind and let the waves wash over us. We're filled with inhibitions that come from more experience, from fear. But our possibilities for understanding and knowing that Greatness, that Vastness are so much greater as we gain experience, more life, more depth. It's a conundrum, a paradox. Experience creates our inhibitions, but it also increases our potential for knowing and being loved by God and other human beings.

And this is why I love the wind and the waves. I love the way that the natural world grounds me in my humanness while drawing me into eternity, into a full, wide, expansive relationship with God and with others.

I want to live with the expansiveness of a teenager and with the tiny bits of wisdom I've gained since then. I want to put to use the full range of human life and emotion that God has granted me. I am willing.

Elfquest

They are comic books. You should read them. But don't read the new ones published by Manga. You have to read the old ones. I've never read comic books in my life, but these are worth the time.

http://www.elfquest.com/

Half a Dozen

I had about a half a dozen profound things to say before I sat down to type here. Now that I'm here, they've fallen out onto the floor somewhere.

First, I have to give a shout-out to my good friend in Montana who made MY WHOLE DAY by spending a good long time on the phone with me yesterday. I feel so much better after exchanging news and other random and often profound thoughts. Thank you! I love you SO MUCH!

Next, I have to say that I realized suddenly yesterday that I was living something I'd always hoped I would. There were 3 teenagers sitting in the bedroom doing homework and listening to music. Vespera's friend came home from school with her, and Novio showed up later in the evening. I've always wanted to be one of those parents whose children bring their friends home, and their friends like to be here. Now I *am* officially one of those parents! I, strangely, don't feel like I've done anything profound.

Ok, I've got to work on this half dozen thing...

Um...third, my 'nother good friend is hosting a women's spa day at her house on Sunday, and I FINALLY get to go. I believe they've done this two or three times without me now. Life keeps getting in the way. This year I'm going. (I hope that typing this here doesn't jinx me somehow. ;) )

Hmmmm...fourth, we've done very little homeschooling this week, as Mane was sick with a stuffy head, and much crabbiness ensued.

Fifth, I need to take notes on the speech I heard about voting in America. We had a bit of an exciting Super Tuesday. I tried to teach Mane about political parties and voting (amid the tissues & crabbiness...brave of me, don't you think?).

Finally, have I mentioned how much I'm tired of MN winter? I feel ready to pull my hair out. My skin is itchy. Everything feels old and brittle. I want warmth and humidity. I want to sleep with the windows open. I want to walk outside without a coat. I want anything but another weekend of double-digits-below-zero. I wish I could hibernate.

Ok, I said my half dozen things. I don't know what happened to the "profound" part.

My Creative Companions...

Another journaling exercise I found recently was to list my Creative Companions...the things that inspire creativity in me...

FAMILY...I know it's so generic to say that my family inspires my creativity, but it's just plain true. The people I live with every day inspire me to write and be creative. Of course, it helps that my family and my life are a little unusual. It's never dull or slow around here. I live in a house of perpetual motion, constant E-motion, events, studies, conversation, music...

COFFEE...I resisted coffee for a long time. All through college the only time I drank coffee was when Mango & I went out together. I don't think I actually used a coffee pot at home until after Mane was born. Then coffee became my creative companion. I love a good cup of coffee and a blank sheet of paper.

CRISIS...Yup, it's true. Crisis inspires creativity. Maybe crisis force us to think outside the box. Or maybe everything is suddenly sharper and clearer in a crisis. In any case, there's always something to say when I'm in crisis.

THE DARK...I can hear myself think better in the dark. If you read my comments on early mornings, you know I have a sort of romantic attachment to late nights.

WATER...Water is so healing, so powerful, so necessary, so ordinary. I used to get through homework by sitting myself down with a big glass of ice water. I got through childbirth in a big tub of hot water. Maybe it's something primal. Water is my creative friend.

FRIENDS...I have so many beautiful friends who challenge me to think, by their lives, by our conversation, by questions, by comments and criticism. They inspire me by their own creativity. ...friends from high school, from college, from Bible study, from GCM, from my neighborhood, and from my own family. ...But I already mentioned family.

MUSIC...OF course, who isn't inspired by music?

Languages, culture, photographs, camping, road trips, rocks, my garden...All of these have been creative companions at one time or another.

And my own writing...because as I sit here I am reminding myself of all the things to be mindful of...

OK, blog readers, it's your turn to leave your own list!

Lent

Lent is not something I've traditionally known a lot about, nor is it something I'll probably ever practice as a Catholic person might. I find myself, nonetheless, drawn to Lent as a season of meditation and quiet in anticipation of Easter and the coming of Spring. This time of year is somehow suited to Lent, as it gives purpose to the winter hush and darkness. It's a time to reflect, a time to let go, a time when my own wounded-ness feels so exposed. Last year I gave up my favorite message board for Lent. This year I'll do the same. The time away from the computer last year was a time to refocus, to listen to God and my own parent voice, rather than the cacophany of other voices so readily available to me on the internet. And, to be honest, even the small amount of time I spend on the computer these days is enough to mess with my mental health this time of year. I find that the screen isn't too good for me. I'll still be writing here, and, perhaps, my writing with even improve with a little more time for reflection. Wednesday, February 6th marks the beginning of Lent. And Lent ends with the celebration of Easter. May we be greeted at the end with snow-melt and sunshine!