The Starfish

A glass starfish we found serendipitously at the fair after church on Sunday

There was a man--or it could have been a woman, in this case it doesn't matter-- walking on a long, empty, and beautiful beach one morning.  Before him, he saw a child dancing on the sand, swinging her arms (or "his" arms, if you like) back and forth.  As the man approached the girl, he saw that she was not dancing but bending down to pick up a starfish and throw it into the water.  There were thousands of starfish beached on the sand, as far as the man could see.  The man said to the girl, "What are you doing?" and she replied, "If they stay too long in the sun, they will die.  So I'm sending them back out to sea."  He said, "But there are so many.  You can't save them all.  You won't make any difference."  And the girl looked at the man and looked at the starfish in her hand, thought for a moment with her face all scrunched up.  Then she threw the starfish into the sea.

"Made a difference to that one!" she replied.

Soon, others heard of the girl's efforts and many people came to the beach to help.  And thousands of starfish were saved.

This was the lesson told at church on Sunday, a popular tale in Unitarian Universalist services that I had heard before.  But the timing couldn't have been better.  There is unrest in our nation, and our wold, anger, sadness, despair even.  The murder of black men by police officers, terrorist bombings in Chelsea, and, since Sunday, yet another school shooting.  The water is not clean in many cities, particularly Flint; the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe attempts to protect its water supply from a pipeline but is opposed by Big Business.  There is war, murder, rape, torture.  65 million displaced persons in the world.  100,000 children being bombed in Aleppo.  And there is a man running for president of our country who prides himself on his racism, homophobia, isolationism, sexism, who quotes Mussolini and befriends Putin, all the while lying and obfuscating to drum up support for his walls and deportations and "law and order."

What can I do?  What in the world can I do?  I'm tired of the "thoughts and prayers" that are posted--that I post--after shootings and bombings.  I'm tired of the "we'll love better" mentality that says if we only love stronger and broader that we can overcome all; we can outlove the haters.  Better yet, we should love the haters.  Okay, yes, sure.  Thoughts, prayers, love.

But action, too. Except, what can I possibly do?  I've often heard that everyone can't do everything so pick a cause and work on it--pick up that starfish--the environment, gun control, education, Black Lives Matter, Habitat for Humanity.  All of those are good.  Which one is for me?  For my family?  How do we introduce children to social action without scaring or worrying them to much?  How do we avoid compassion fatigue?  No one likes to think too long of extinct panda bears; sixty-five million people are so many to save.  

Breathe.

One starfish at a time.

Hospice, Girl Scouts, lay ministry, money for Hillary, cans of food for the food drive, donations to the Juvenile Diabetes Foundation, lemonade stand for autism awareness.  Keep going, spread the word, pick up just one more starfish.

We can each make a difference.  Even if it really all seems impossible.  Sometimes, you're tired of bending over; sometimes the number of starfish is too overwhelming.  So don't look just at the entire beach of starfish despairingly; look at the one you send sailing back out to sea, rejoice that it will live, and enjoy the morning on the beach.  Sometimes, it helps if you dance a little.  

Trying Taizé

A few years ago, I wrote about my interest in singing meditations and mentioned a local Taizé service, which is an evening prayer service of chanting.  I love to sing and had wanted to try the service.  Recently, our old UU church started offering its own Taizé service.  And last night I attended.

It was lovely.  We sat in a semicircle in the darkened sanctuary, facing dozens of lit candles.  We had an order of service with the words to the simple chants included.  And we sang each chant repeatedly, simple tunes that were easy to pick up.  There is something about intoning songs over and over so that the words and sounds become almost abstract.  I found it quite peaceful and meditative, really quite lovely.

My favorite song was the last one, "May All Beings Be Happy," which had verses about being happy, peaceful, and free from suffering, just like metta meditation.  I found the tune on Amazon and will teach it to the kids.

After all the singing (coupled with some prayer, readings, and silent meditation), we all left the sanctuary quietly.  In the parking lot, I said hi to my friends from the old congregation and then headed back home, taking just a little of the peace and quiet with me.

Fast Fast

Ramadan.

Latter-Day Saints Fast Sunday.

Yom Kippur.

In some ways, Lent.

I'm talking about fasting because there was an article in the NYTimes recently about the health benefits of fasting.  There are recent books and studies that suggest that intermittent fasting, particularly 2 days fasting a week (hence the name 5:2 fasting) is good for cholesterol, insulin resistance, weight, and other areas.

And all those are quite interesting, but you know how I feel about diets, especially as they really are the antithesis of a healthy lifestyle, mentally and physically.

But I am intrigued by the spiritual aspects of fasting.   Self-reflection, self-discipline, mindfulness, social justice.  Now, UUs don't officially observe any fasts, but, being a non-doctrinal community means we are free to explore our own rituals.  With food insecurity in our community, which was the focus of our Girl Scout troop's Bronze Award, and all the hunger and starvation in the world plus discussions of food processing, food waste, sustainability, and the environment, I appreciate something that brings these issues to the forefront of my mind.  Of course, I recognize that choosing to fast and controlling the boundaries of any hunger I feel is a sign of my privilege; however, I don't think that negates the value of the exercise for me.

And so, twice this week, on Tuesday and now today, I've done a partial fast following the method outlined in the book mentioned by the NYTimes, Moseley and Spencer's The Fast Diet.  This means keeping to under 500 calories two days a week.  I've been fasting (though, with tea and, today, some broth) until late-afternoon or dinner.  It's not a strict fast, tops about 10 hours from wake-up to dinner.

For a spiritual practice, it was all very physical.   Perhaps because it was only 2 days, or perhaps because I wasn't praying, I didn't have the clarity or focus or any other meditative experience you sometimes here connected to fasting.  I was so busy out and about on Tuesday that I only noticed I was hungry in passing and skipping meals was easy.  Well, until I fell on my dinner at 8 pm, after a meeting.  I would guess it was more than 500 calories, being take-out Vietnamese.  But, after a bit of wolfing it down, I slowed down and think I certainly appreciated that meal more than I would have.  Today, I notice it more, more because eating while I'm home is a habit--breakfast with kids, lunch around noon, snack with kids; eating organizes my day.  So I make a lot of tea, with a little milk.  I  haven't been uncomfortable.  I haven't been weak or queasy, probably because of the milk in the tea.  Most of the time, I wasn't even thinking about food.  And when I did think of eating or hear a few rumbles, I could only imagine what days and weeks of that might be like, especially without the knowledge that dinner comes at dusk or food is so easily available all over.  Personally, I am also much more mindful of cycles of hunger and how I feel throughout the day; also, shopping, cooking, and eating habits become so visible--what we buy, how it's packaged, how I cook, what I cook, how we eat a meal, when we snack, what we waste.  I know my thoughts don't help people who are food insecure and hungry, but, with our recent Girl Scout project helping out at the soup kitchen, I am more aware of ways to help out in my area and intend to do so.

In fact, the GS troop will be working on their Savvy Shopper badges this month, which includes learning about price points, budgets, meal planning, etc.  We think we'll let them each bring $2 and work in small groups, so that they have less than $10 to spend to buy ingredients that would make a few meals for themselves.  To help them, we'll be consulting Good and Cheap, the $4 a day food guide developed by Leanne Brown that features healthy, tasty recipes and meal ideas for people who use SNAP (food stamps), which I first learned about from NPR.  The girls will actually buy the food and we'll donate it to the local food pantry (along with a few copies of the book, which you can download as a free pdf at the above link.)

So, as I type, the kids are looking for dinner, which we are privileged enough to have so easily available.  Maybe, one day, they can fast with me.

Anxieties Anonymous

When I told my mom that I had recently realized that I was an anxious person, she chuckled and said, "Of course you are.  I've known that since you were little."

How did I not know?

Sure, I would get stressful before tests and oral reports.  Most people do--you know the joke about people less nervous to be in the coffin than giving the eulogy.   I declined joining the Academic Decathlon team because competition made me too anxious; it still does.  But it didn't occur to me that I might be more anxious than other people.

I also got stressful--and would have digestive issues--before movies or theater performances or  meetings or on public transportation.   Or driving/being in the car.  Really, anywhere I felt "stuck."

New places also caused stress.  Traveling to new places caused stress.  As did something as simple as walking around--on campus, to the store, around the store, sightseeing, hiking--anything without a bathroom nearby, even if I didn't need it at the time.  Anxiety and its effects don't creep up every time--and I can't always predict when--I thought it was just the family stomach, IBS, really--my dad, my aunt, later I learned about my grandad probably too; now possibly one of the kiddos, which is another reason I've been exploring the topic.  I thought the physical was the dominant problem, with the anxiety swirling around it.  I wasn't like the stereotype of anxious that I had seen.  But I'm guessing the anxiety came first.  And no one ever really said anything about it to me, until very recently, even if/when they noticed.

Once I had kids, the stress was somewhat in abeyance.  New people did not make me nervous, nor did social activities; I was fine at playdates, music classes, Girl Scouts.

Though, carpooling and waiting in the car at pick-ups--more "stuck" places--were hard.

Are hard.

None of those are really in the past tense.

Once I hurt my back and later had abdominal surgery, I was nervous about re-injuring, over-extending, indications of pain.   The anxiety has definitely gotten worse since my emergency surgery and recovery.  I've had a few very overwhelming panic attacks and am more sensitive than I was . . . .

About all of the above, confrontations, phone calls, conflicts, things I've said, things I didn't say . . . . . unexpected or surprise events, things out of my control (and conversely, sometimes, being in charge),  being late, being embarrassed (feeling stupid), unpredictability, negative outcomes, possible emergencies, illness, death.

I think the list could go on.

My general response to many stimuli is anxiety, which for me goes straight to my stomach (and sometimes to my back.)  I've been discussing it with my therapist and GP, and practicing mindfulness techniques; we don't think meds are necessary at this time.  I attended a workshop on anxiety in children recently, which put my issues in perspective.  On the spectrum of anxiety issues, I think I'm just outside the realm of typical, in the middle of the line somewhere.  I'm not OCD, I'm not socially paralyzed, it doesn't alter my daily life in extreme, but I know in 45 years that I've altered what I do to avoid anxious triggers.  Otherwise, I've come up with ways (some successful, some not so much) to deal with them and Mama has always been very helpful and understanding.  I try to surround myself with similarly understanding, compassionate, supportive people and now I have quite the little crew that gets my quirks.

Sure, the argument could be made that they enable me.  But I'm progressing at the speed I can . . . . awareness is the key, right?

I'm telling you this because, well, you already know, just like my mom knew.   Now that I'm more aware, I can see the patterns and patterned responses.  I can work on changing them.  But also on accepting them.  And helping others to understand and accept me and all the anxious people like me.

Affirmations 2016

My affirmation list has gotten longer and I realized that it desperately needed an update (my original list of Affirmations is from last March, April, and then again in October.)  So, I'm making a new one, mainly for this year.

I have not had severely debilitating back pain in almost 5 whole years (my major episode was 6 years ago!)  Two years ago, Memorial Day 2014 when I had back pain, I still functioned and did things.

My surgery was almost a year ago and I am so much better.  

• I can drive as far and walk as much as I did before my surgery.
• I can do so many things without my brace:  go on outings, play the piano, cook dinner, push the cart around the grocery store, fold the laundry, unload the dishwasher, watch tv from the couch, sit to meditate, sit at the dinner table, clean the litterboxes, meditating on my zafu/cushion, and do all of my stretches and exercises.  And I can do several of these in a row in one day without any problem, most days.  Some of these were hard before surgery; my PT thinks my core might be stronger than before.
• I know what foods most upset my system and can work around them.
• I am more skillful at staying in the present when I have pain or anxiety.

Recently, I have successfully navigated:

• evening performances at Lincoln Center and Broadway;
• the all-day rehearsal time and then performance of Bud's kung fu at Lincoln Center;
• walking 10 blocks, eating in a restaurant, and walking back 10 blocks;
• back-to-back museum exhibitions;
• test driving and buying a new car;
• conducting various GS meetings (including Bronze Award!) and (soon) standing at the GS cookie booth;
• being in charge--rides, meals, chores, etc.--as the only adult for the whole weekend;
• (soon) parented alone for a whole weekend, with all the driving and meals etc;
• complete a huge crocheted blanket;
• passing my CPR test, with 3+ minutes of demonstration of compressions, etc.;
• driving Bud to a performance, staying to watch, and driving home;
• walking the marsh and the beach to look for the Snowy Owl;
• lightsaber sparring with Bud; 
• cleaning the porch with Mama;
• pick up dear Mr. P and carry him when he was ill;
• walked on rocky/shelly beaches looking sea glass (home and Block Island);
• attending a weekend knitting retreat (with lots of sitting!);
• walking labyrinths (at retreat and Block Island);
• walking on wooded paths, where I saw an owl (retreat);
• attended several parties;
• sat through SW7 three times (once followed by dinner!);
• Chinese New Year, with several sessions of kneeling to pray;
• regular doctors' appointments;
• one word:  colonoscopy;
• and more that I can't even remember.

More Affirmations

I posted a list of Affirmations I use to buck up my confidence back in March, actually a week before my surgery, and again four weeks later in April.  I realize I could add several big things to it.  So, here we go, my recent list of accomplishments:

I can walk.
I can pick stuff off the floor.
I can shop and push the cart.
I can drive all the way to church, 25 minutes.
I can play the piano without wearing my brace briefly.
I can take a bath.
I can get dressed all by myself. 
I can unload the dishwasher.
I can wash dishes.
I can cook dinner
I can do the laundry and even fold it.
I can blog.
I can crochet.

I have not had severely debilitating back pain in almost 4 whole years (my major episode was 6 years ago!)

Last Memorial Day 2014 when I had back pain, I still functioned and did things.

My surgery was seven months ago and I am much better.

I know how to cope with pain.

I know how to cope with fear.

I know there will be pain and fear and I am ready.

I can be calm in a crisis.

I can accept that I am not in control.

I have compassion for myself.

I have the tools I need--meds, heat pack, brace, stretches, rest.

I have great support and understanding in Mama and the kids, my parents and my sister.

I have the time and resources to take it easy.

I've survived and thrived:

• On trips to
• ENGLAND! and Cardiff!
• Girl Scout overnight, on the floor, at Old Sturbridge Village!! (this one gets forgotten because it was three days before my emergency)
• Girl Scout overnight, sleeping in a ship's berth at Mystic Seaport (and carrying my gear to the ship and then walking around for hours)
• Disney World (even though EPCOT was hard, I got through it)
• Washington DC
• Boston
• Philadelphia
• Houston and environs
• Block Island (twice!)
• our nano-honeymoon in NYC (twice!)
• Experiences such as
• doing my hospice work, sitting at people's bedsides and holding their hands
• lighting a fire and cooking over it
• going swimming
• teaching RE
• taking GS outdoor class Food, Fire, & Fun
• taking archery and becoming certified as an instructor
• passing First Aid and CPR--I can give mouth-to-mouth and use an AED
• riding on parade floats and giving a lecture on costuming in full corseted costume
• giving historic house tours
• sitting and standing for hours at kung fu competition
• sitting at the piano and play "Finlandia"
• learning ASL
• going on retreat by myself for two nights all alone--including sitting at length, creating art, taking yoga
• winning 4 stars on Just Dance, dancing to "Bang, Bang"
• playing basketball with the kids
• playing water basketball with the kids at the Y
• going to long movies
• going to Lion King, Phantom of the Opera, Les Mis, Wicked, Vagina Monologues, Fun Home, Spring Awakening, Matilda
• walking all day at Comic Con (and other long walks--at Trunk or Treat, fairy houses, Mystic, NYC, etc.)
• building fairy houses and nature mandalas
• wandering around museums
• eating in restaurants at night
• walking in the snow
• making snow angels
• going canoeing
• I can do 
• laundry
• baking
• unloading the dishwasher
• walking on the treadmill
• sitting on the floor with the cats
• taking a real bath

I did all that.  I can do what comes next. 

Successes

Yesterday--a holiday from school for our kids for Yom Kippur--was a day of which I can be proud.

First, I have "leveled up" in physical therapy, meaning she switched out all my old exercises for new, harder ones.  Yay?  So, while the old ones had become much easier, the new ones kicked my butt and I admit to being a bit disappointed at how hard the new ones are.  But it's progress and, hopefully soon, these new ones will be easy.

Secondly, the Girl Scout troop went on a 6 mile bike ride yesterday!  Now, before you are paralyzed with shock that I rode a bike for 6 miles, know that I didn't.  Both kids did, along with their troop and some moms, but I was the anchor crew, staying with my van at the starting point, then meeting them at the lunch spot (with some of their stuff in tow), and then meeting them at the finishing point.  While it doesn't seem like much, I was proud of my ability to do all the driving and waiting without being uncomfortable--we were out for almost 3 hours.

But the biggest achievement came late in the day.  I had my first Lay Ministry meeting at church, some thirty minutes away.  And I drove myself!  At the end of the long day!  This is quite an accomplishment:  the farthest I've driven since my surgery (and the farthest I had managed to drive in the years before that)!    And this after an already physically taxing day.  I was also sitting in a meeting with a new minister and people I did not know, which could have created a little bit of stress but didn't.  We had all gathered to brainstorm on updating our strategies for supporting the minister in offering pastoral care to our church members, including hospital and home visits, possible meals and rides, even the prayer shawl ministry.  I also spoke briefly to the minister afterwards and she said we should talk about my ideas for seminary and chaplaincy; she had yet another path I could consider taking.  So exciting.  I didn't even get home to almost 9:30 pm, after tuck in!

By then, I was too energized to sleep, talked Mama's ear off til late, and then fell sound asleep in my book, even though I thought I was awake enough to read for hours.

A great day.

Summer Fun: Doodle Dos and Don'ts

This morning before ice skating, I worked on the flags I've wanted to doodle.  I ironed them first, as they'd gotten wrinkly since the Zentangle retreat in February, stuffed in my doodle bag waiting their turn.  They're muslin flags strung together with hem tape (homemade by the class instructor) and had gotten pretty wrinkly.

I had decided to put my peace-hope-love doodles on the tripartite flag and so set to work with my permanent Identi-pen for fabric this morning at the kitchen table.

I dropped the boxes and changed the heart a bit.  I think they came out nicely.

And then I realized that there were marks--dots and streaks and such--all over the table.  I hadn't thought about my pen bleeding through the thin fabric.  

I called the kids in as a teachable moment.  Because, of course, sometimes I go on a tirade when they make a mess, honest but forseeable messes not intentionally made, but I get upset that they don't think ahead or be extra careful. And here I'd done the exact same thing myself.  So I told them that the next time I started getting upset about their making a similar mistake that all they needed to mention were the tabletop dots and I would not yell.  

The dots only sort of came up with a scrubbing from the steel wool (which then also sort of took the finish off the table.  I guess we'll know which is my spot.)

Still, the flags are lovely.

And I'm extra-prepared for when the whole family works on the blue, yellow, red, green, and white flags I bought for us to decorate and hang around!  (I think a piece of cardboard underneath would do the trick nicely.)

Campin'

I'm camping this week.  At home.  Via the internet.  Which, considering how muggy it is and how hot for Connecticut in June, suits me just fine.

It's my second time attending Heather Bruggeman's Summer Soul Camp, which invites us to adapt the parts of camp we liked as children and invigorate our daily summer routine with small rituals and activities.

I think I can credit camp with our two afternoon forays outside so far this week.  We didn't last long because it was hot, but I've been enjoying sitting under one of our maples which provides great shade for our metal table set and has my favorite view right down our rock wall.  Yesterday, I sat there while they played in the sprinkler/"beerorium."  Today we picnicked there, albeit with a deli lunch.  I'm considering doodling some little flags to decorate.

And then I had this crazy idea to get a tent to sleep outside with the kids, since we're not going far this summer.  The weather will cool off, into the low 70s again next week, which would be good camping weather.   It could be really fun.

Boredom

My days are long; my abilities and energies limited--I'm still not driving.  I mean, I had been on the cusp of a major new project--seminary--and now not only is that not happening for a year (still the right decision, physically), but I'm not even really doing what I had been (hospice, historic house, GS meetings.)  And while I do see friends, I have a lot of free time that weighs rather heavily.

So, being in a list-making mood, I'm coming up with things I can do in the next six weeks that aren't bingeing on Netflix or zoning out on FB or Pinterest, while the kids are in school:

1. coffee visits with friends
2. crochet more Granny Square blankets
3. crochet flowers
4. practice knitting
5. read current novel
6. read through magazines
7. blog
8. meditate
9. work on family photo albums
10. work on Mommy Hungry 2015 cookbook
11. do family questionnaire which we haven't done in a few years
12. meal planning
13. Zentangle
14. walk
15. play piano
16. call friends
17. brush the cats/visit the basement boys
18. sew on Sis's Shirt
19. practice ASL
20. drink a cup of tea outside
21. gentle purging of shelves, cabinets, and drawers (little things like spices and office supplies, not books or heavy things)
22. study up on Scotland for our trip
23. work on sewing machine skills
24. put badges on Sis's GS sash
25. send cards to friends
26. email "pen pals"

New Affirmations

I posted a list of Affirmations I use to buck up my confidence back in March, actually a week before my surgery.  I realize I could add several things to it.  So, here we go, my recent list of accomplishments:

I can walk.
I can even walk around Target for a little bit.
I can ride in the car for awhile.
I can sit on the couch.
I can take a shower.
I can put on almost all my own clothes (socks are hard and I'm wearing slip-on shoes.)
I can unload the top rack of the dishwasher.
I can wash a few dishes.
I can help pack school lunches.
I can blog.
I can crochet.


I include my older list, with some edits, to keep me going:

I have not had severely debilitating back pain in almost 4 whole years.

Last Memorial Day 2014 when I had back pain, I still functioned and did things.

My surgery was four weeks ago and I am much better.

I can walk longer and faster than before (well, beforehand.)

I can drive longer than I have in years (I drove the furthest, 25 miles, the day before my emergency!)

I know how to cope with pain.

I know how to cope with fear.

I know there will be pain and fear and I am ready.

I can be calm in a crisis.

I can accept that I am not in control.

I have compassion for myself.

I have the tools I need--meds, heat pack, brace, stretches, rest.

I have great support and understanding in Mama and the kids, my parents and my sister.

I have the time and resources to take it easy.

I've survived and thrived:

• On trips to
• ENGLAND! and Cardiff!
• Girl Scout overnight, on the floor, at Old Sturbridge Village!! (this one gets forgotten because it was three days before my emergency)
• Disney World (even though EPCOT was hard, I got through it)
• Washington DC
• Boston
• Philadelphia
• Houston and environs
• our nano-honeymoon in NYC (and all those stairs at the Merchant House)
• Experiences such as
• sitting at a hospital bedside and visiting for hours.
• lighting a fire and cooking over it.
• going swimming
• taking GS outdoor class Food, Fire, & Fun.
• taking archery and becoming certified as an instructor.
• passing First Aid and CPR--I can give mouth-to-mouth and use an AED.
• riding on parade floats and giving a lecture on costuming in full corseted costume.
• sitting at the piano and play "Finlandia."
• learning ASL
• going on retreat by myself for two nights all alone--including sitting at length, creating art, taking yoga
• winning 4 stars on Just Dance, dancing to "Bang, Bang."
• playing basketball with the kids
• playing water basketball with the kids at the Y
• going to long movies
• going to Lion King, Phantom of the Opera, Les Mis, Wicked, Vagina Monologues
• wandering around museums
• eating in restaurants at night
• walking in the snow
• making snow angels
• going canoeing
• I can do (before my surgery . . . and I will again!)
• laundry
• baking
• unloading the dishwasher
• walking on the treadmill
• sitting on the floor with the cats
• taking a real bath

I did all that.  I can do what comes next. 

Practicing to Fail

Perhaps I should say "practicing to falter."

I had one of the most interesting piano lessons yesterday.  As you know, my very first piano recital is on Sunday.  After seven months of lessons, having not been able to read much music or play more than "Good King Wenceslas" (the easy version) when I began in September, I had said I would play at the spring recital alongside all of the kiddos; I've been practicing my piece, "Finlandia," for three months.  And then, well, emergency.

I have debated whether I could play since having my surgery.  Everyone, family and piano teacher included, is encouraging and understanding--play if you can, don't if you can't, but don't stress about it.  I've practiced the transitions where I move my hands so that they are smoother; I've practiced the timing because sometimes my count is just a bit off.  I've even practiced in front of people--the kids, Mama, Gommie in-laws, friends--so I get used to playing for others. Some days, I get through my song just fine; other days, I hit so many wrong notes.  Pain and narcotics usage definitely has an effect.

So yesterday, my teacher and I practiced how to mess up.  No faces, no squeals, no waving my hands in frustration.  Play through.  Pretend you didn't mess up.  Slow down if it's a part that troubles you (or speed up right through it!)  If it's an egregious mistake (several wrong notes in a row), start the phrase over.  If it's the first few notes, start the whole song over.  She says that everyone messes up, that oftentimes only the players notice.  It's a very forgiving audience.

And you know what?  Recognizing that I knew how to fix a mistake--acknowledging that I was going to make a mistake and should therefore not aim for perfect (which, my teacher called a "crapshoot!")--freed up my playing immensely and I made fewer mistakes!  Some of the paralysis left.

So, for now, I'm definitely playing "Finlandia" on Sunday, mistakes and all.


(Because I know people like an update, yesterday was really good.  I stayed on top of my pain meds and had a good, useful, relaxing day.  I have follow-ups with cardiologist on Thurs and surgeon on Friday.  Expecting it all to be fine.)

Affirmations

It's been a rough couple of days.  Cold weather and storms, tough part of my cycle, possible endometriosis, and some anxiety about not feeling well.  Vicious cycle.  Nothing awful, just exhausting and frustrating. Except this is a big weekend--our Girl Scout overnight--and I want to go.  So I'm putting the list of affirmations I regularly add to in order to bulk up my confidence and have readily available. I have not had severely debilitating back pain in almost 4 whole years. Last Memorial Day 2014 when I had back pain, I still functioned and did things. I can walk longer and faster than ever before. I know how to cope with pain. I know how to cope with fear. I know there will be pain and fear and I am ready. I have compassion for myself. I have the tools I need--meds, heat pack, brace, stretches, rest. I have great support and understanding in Gin and the kids. I have the time and resources to take it easy. I survived and thrived at Disney World and DC and Boston and Philadelphia and Houston. Even though EPCOT was hard, I got through it. I've done  basketball water basketball long movies Lion King, Phantom of the Opera, Les Mis, Wicked, Vagina Monologues the flight to Texas museums our nano-honeymoon in NYC (and all those stairs at the Merchant House) restaurants at night walking in the snow snow angels canoeing laundry baking unloading the dishwasher walking on the treadmill sitting on the floor with the cats taking a real bath. I can sit at a hospital bedside and visit for hours. I can light a fire and cook over it. I can go swimming. I took Food, Fire, & Fun. I took Archery and was certified as an instructor. I passed First Aid and CPR--I can give mouth-to-mouth and use an AED. I have ridden on parade floats and given a lecture on costuming in full corseted costume. I can sit at the piano and play "Finlandia." I am learning ASL. I went on a retreat by myself.  I sat at length, creating art.  I even took yoga. I have won 4 stars on Just Dance, dancing to "Bang, Bang." I flew to England and back.. I did Cardiff. I did England. I can do this.

On Retreat

My weekend was marvelous.  And I'm not even sure where to begin, knowing that the typing up of it might dull the glow that I've carried with me.  I'd actually never been on an overnight retreat before--it's not quite like an academic conference because it's totally lacking in "political" networking or posturing.  It was 48 hours of being completely cut off--I even deinstalled various apps from my phone, so that I only connected with Mama a couple of times a day to check in.  Otherwise, the only part of the outside world I knew about was the snow I could watch falling from inside!


Monastery
Held at one of the largest Catholic retreats in the world, the retreat--sponsored by Copper Beech Institute, a mindfulness non-profit--was surrounded by symbols of Catholicism.  Bud even worried as they dropped me off, "Mom, it looks so religious!"  Yes, indeed, in that post-war, wood paneling, 50s sort of way.  I've stayed in another monastery--one in Rome that ran a hostel that housed my summer school abroad--but that was less-dated looking, though probably older.  The monks were rather the same, though--robed, friendly, very quiet.  No surprise that Rome would have more ambiance than Connecticut!

My room itself reminded me of Agnes of God--a bed, a desk, a chair, a nightstand, and that all-important waste-paper basket.  Whites, browns, red curtain and bedspread.  No Bible, though.  Only a print with a Wendell Berry poem for decoration and a gorgeous view of a snow-covered landscape with gumball tree and statues.

The hall, with numerous other doors leading to replicas of my own room, had that old-college dorm feel, especially with the communal showers and toilets.   Though, there was art on display made by local artists, including one mixed media canvas entitled Silent Weavers by Elisabeth Moss, which became my especial favorite.  I would intentionally pass by it so that I could study it every chance I got.  I saw a veiled woman, possibly an angel with wings, and a little owl (with beak and wing); I emailed a photo to Mama, who saw the Host and Chalice, given its Catholic context.  One of my co-retreatants saw the Virgin Mary.

The rest of the center was huge--three big buildings and practically two of everything (chapels, dining rooms, elevators).  In fact, there was another retreat of about 80+ Catholic men and we rarely ever saw them!  But it was all inside so we never got snowed upon.  I especially enjoyed the little bookshop with sweets, gifts, and books, where I picked up a few things for the family.  I also liked the Solarium, a long thin hallway with seats and cushions  . . . and potted pink geraniums on the sill overlooking a snowy expanse.  There is a labyrinth on the grounds, with a beautiful rock sculpture in the center but, alas, it was under two feet of snow.  No one ventured out to find it.  I'll go back on another retreat and walk the path.

Food
It's a rare place that focuses on vegetarian food, with an animal protein as an after-thought, but such was the case with this retreat.  Lentil salad, porcini risotto, arugula salad, spinach salad, parmesan cheese grits, broccoli frittata, chickpea stew, kale and white bean soup, potato pancakes, scrambled eggs.  So much goodness to eat at every meal.  And it was local and sustainable when possible.  The baked goods were a treat too:  pb cookies, this rich sweet zucchini bread/cake, and these fabulous lemon poundcakes. Snack one day was bowls of sunflower and pumpkin seeds and marcona almonds.  Mmmmmm.  Plus abundant tea and coffee.  And I bought chocolate at the little shop.  What more could I want?  There were some retreatants who snuck over to the buffet line of the Catholic men's retreat--they had meat and potatoes; and it was all okay to choose what you wanted to eat!






Drawing
Of course, the purpose of this retreat was something called Zentangle, a meditative drawing technique that focuses on process as much as output.  Before it was copyrighted, you would've just called it doodling.  I had discovered Zentangle officially some months back when I noticed various drawing pins on Pinterest and also an article in UU World about a doodling minister.  I started playing around with it myself, as you've seen in several posts, and this retreat was my chance to learn more techniques.

We had a whole room to ourselves, stocked with an Art Bar full of materials and tools, numerous displays of the teachers' own work, reference books, and snacks!!!  It was a grown-up candy store.  We even each got a lot of our own goodies--pens, papers, a sketch book, various project materials, and a door prize--mine was a wooden frame that I can decorate.

The initial session was a basic intro to Zentangle--the dots, the tile, the strings, the tangle patterns.  We also discussed embellishments, etc., and some of the concepts--childlike curiosity, awareness of breath and body, staying present, lack of judgement, no erasure, nothing is a "mistake" (just an opportunity!)  I'm more into it for fun, but some of the people are obsessed Zentanglers, who hold meetings and complete weekly challenges.  One woman even flew in from Ohio to take a class with a specific teacher.

Some of the other sessions were beyond me--I wasn't quite ready to design my own unique Tangle pattern and I wasn't that interested in making several paper books to be platforms for my own tangleations (yep, there's this whole lingo.)

In fact, the last session was my favorite:  we learned how to Tangle labyrinths.  We drew four types--basic, the interior of Chartres, the labyrinth at the retreat center, and a concentric circle labyrinth--and discussed all the various patterns that lended themselves to labyrinths.  I had enjoyed drawing labyrinths way before I knew of Zentangle; we used to make them out of painters' tape on the floor!  I hadn't thought to Tangle them before.  I know I'll be filling those little books with labyrinths.

Other Offerings
When I wasn't drawing, I was taking advantage of other retreat offerings.  The first night, I had a thirty minute Reflexology session.  While I've had my chakras cleansed, accupressure, accupuncture, and fascial release, I've never had reflexology, which is focused on energy conduits in the feet (same system as accupressure/puncture, but different "entry" point.  The whole thing was relaxing--dim lights, soft music, sweet lotions and oils--but I couldn't say if the effects were from the qi manipulation or just the rest.  And I'm not sure it really matters.  (Yes, I have become much more open to alternative healings since my back injury, which was mostly helped by Integrative Manual Therapy not traditional meds, injections, etc.)

I also attended an early morning mindfulness meditation session, just like a few I've attended before.  The director (who is the husband of a new friend of mine) led the meditation and has one of those soft, NPR voices and such a calm manner; it reminded me of everything that I love about mindfulness meditation.  (Even though I was down on my mat on a very cold tile floor!)  I liked his metta phrases at the end, "May all beings be happy.  May all beings be peaceful.  May all beings be free from suffering.  May all beings be healed."  I really liked the "healed" part.

I also went to a yoga class!  I don't have much yoga experience, mainly prenatal at home alone with a DVD a decade ago.  Again with my mat on a cold floor, I listened to the soothing voice of the teacher, who chanted beautifully, and followed gently each of her moves to the best of my ability.  I of course especially liked the long rest and then meditation at the end.  I'm not sure yoga will be my thing--stretching is fraught with the possibility of injury for me--but I'm glad I got the chance to try.  I also liked chatting with her and the other students over tea (Big Y's "calming" blend of chamomile and lavender--organic, even--who knew.)

I also went to a music concert the second night, a couple playing guitar, flutes, and singing bowls.  Nice music of a type, but I was so exhausted from sitting all day that I didn't last long.  I wish I could've though; it was tranquil.


I was ready when the weekend ended, even with the good food and opportunities for learning and relaxing.  I wondered how Mama and the kiddos were--with their gaming (mainly Disney's Infinity, and trip to the Winter Festival for ice fishing (they didn't catch anything but got to eat some of the fish someone did catch!  They said the ice was a foot thick.)   Mama's grandfather is dying, which is hard for the whole family (we're getting updates from her parents, who are other in Thailand with him.)

And so, with a snowstorm on the way, I headed back to reality and the grocery store and home, which needed some attention, and now today's snow day from school.  Re-entry is never really smooth.  But I'm glad to be back with the family . . . and I can always take a mini-mental retreat with my sketchbook when I need to.  All told, it was a marvelous experience.

And the painting of the woman with wings hangs in our living room as a reminder.

Of Super Bowls and Sanitation Workers

We have boycotted the Super Bowl this year, the culmination of boycotting all NFL games on television this year.

We discussed it as a family and voted not to support professional football.

Because of concussions.

Because of indifference to domestic abuse.

Because of cheating.

Because of greed.

And so, over lunch today after church (at the fish restaurant, Gommie!  And your char was on the menu.  You can go again in less than 2 weeks!!), we discussed the Super Bowl.  The kids had discussed in RE (religious education) how some jobs get overlooked, the workers ignored--like sanitation workers and postal workers.

And so I asked them, which job is more important to us on a daily basis:  Super Bowl quarterback or garbage man?  Which would we notice more if they quit working tomorrow?  Who helps society more?

And what do they get paid?

Making up numbers, for perspective, we averaged sanitation workers got $15/hour while the quarterback could make $50 million via contract.

Why?

Because in reality, the quarterback makes so much money for so many other people, namely the owners and the NFL and the merchandisers, who then don't care much about the players except to exploit them as money-makers.  Who does the garbage man make money for?  Nobody.  And so, who is "worth" more?

What is worth?  What is value?  What is important?

We acknowledged that nothing we could do would ever change the relationship of NFL salaries to sanitation workers, pop stars to teachers, movie stars to physical therapists.  But we wanted the kiddos to be aware of the discrepancies, to look where the money is, to see through the consumerism and the merchandising and the capitalism, to examine the dominant or majority or popular opinion.  To question it.

To not watch the Super Bowl when tens of millions of people were.

And so Bud rearranged his Lego Lord of the Rings dioramas and put together a new one of Lake Town.  And Sis and I made candles, one of the projects of my Hibernate workshop (we made two rose-scented candles and two "medieval" blend ones, with rosemary, thyme, orange, etc.)

And then, later this evening, we turned on the tv.

I had agreed to watching Katy Perry's halftime performance.  We like her music and the kids wanted to see it.  It was our nod to the occasion.  (When Bud was asking questions earlier about the game, we asked if he wanted to change his mind and watch. I didn't want to be the mom who wouldn't let them watch; I wanted it to be a group decision. "No," he said, "but it was hard not to do what everyone was doing."  So true. Don't get me wrong:  I like football.  I remember my paternal grandparents watching the Cowboys; I went to almost every football game while I was in high school.  I'm from Texas--football is our sport.   So, standing up for beliefs can be so hard, especially when they are unusual or unpopular.  Or have difficult consequences. Or just aren't as fun. But you stick to your decision anyway.  There's a great essay on that somewhere; I'll link back if I find it.)

And that's when we saw the ad about domestic abuse, using that real 9-1-1 call when the woman orders a pizza as a hint to the 9-1-1 operator that she is in danger.  I had heard about the call on FB and so could explain to the kids what was going on.  They had never heard of domestic abuse.  They couldn't fathom why someone would beat another person, or why someone might stay with a person who beat them.  It was delicate territory.  Especially when I explained why the NFL was showing the ad, as a way to make amends for their reluctance to take a stand on domestic abuse.    And even more especially when I explained that the woman down the street was beaten by her boyfriend so badly on Christmas day that the ambulance was called  . . . but that the boyfriend is back in the house (and to stay away from him and to come get us if they hear anything.  And yes we mentioned that the authorities are trying to help her and her kids, but that these situations are hard to understand and are very delicate.)  We even talked about how my maternal grandmother was abused by her first husband but was saved by her brother, divorced the man, and married again (even though she was kicked out of her Catholic church, divorce being quite unpopular in small-town Texas in the late 1930s.)  We talked about our zero-tolerance policy for hitting or violence because we don't want them to hurt others and because we don't want them to think it's okay for people to hurt them.

Fun, no?

Thank goodness Katy Perry roared on the field with that origami tiger right around then and we could cheer to all of her songs.  (And thankfully there wasn't too much in the way of exploitation of women that I had to address, nor cultural appropriation aka Miley Cyrus.  There was even Missy Elliott, always good for shifting paradigms!)   We liked it so much that we rewound it and watched it again.  And then, for good measure, we watched the video of Katy Perry singing with a young woman with autism (and spent some time talking about autism!  Whew.  It was our "inherent worth and dignity" of all people night.)

(We did have to discuss why there was "Pepsi" everywhere, how Pepsi had paid for the concert so that we would like their soda.  But really, what was a bubbly beverage have to do with music anyway?  Really?  Look for the money.)

And then we turned the Super Bowl off so that we could pet our NYcat Mojito, who had been sitting on the couch with me through the whole thing.

(And I'm so glad I didn't have to explain the end of the game, which apparently included a brawl.)

All in all, it was a good game(-less) day.

Twinkie Reader

Gommie and I were discussing books this morning and her recent book group.  I had just confessed something I'd realized recently when yet another person expressed surprise that i hadn't read some book or another:  I read for plot, narrative, historical detail, entertainment.  I don't like emotional, psychological character-driven books (or movies/tv.  Or art.  Or drama, which is probably why I like musicals more than plays.)  Yep, I'll take Harry Potter over Room, mysteries over award-winning books in trade paperbacks. So Gommie read me a quote that someone had read at the book group, about people who read for plot being those who suck the cream out of the Oreo, instead of being those whole-Oreo eaters who read for character and emotions (not that she agreed with the quote, but she does like the whole Oreo, can't even imagine reading a mystery or fantasy novel.  Which I guess means she just eats the cookie, not the whole Oreo??  It's an odd metaphor.)  

In life, I like the chocolate cookie; but, yes, in this metaphor, I'd eat the cream.   (I miss the Twinkie analogy; eating a whole Oreo just doesn't sound that much more wholesome.)

Truthfully, I don't mind being an indulgent reader. I like a good story.  I'm just not that interested in made-up emotional human drama (I read enough real tragedy and drama in the paper and talk about the difficulties and issues in my friends' lives.)  It certainly isn't relaxing or entertaining, which is what I'm looking for in my fiction books (as opposed to non-fiction, when I read about hospice or history.)  I read poetry when I'm looking for emotional insight.  But it puts me well outside the circle of well-read people following the Man Booker, National Book Award, Pulitzer, Nobel, and various Reviews of Books.  I guess with my Ph.D., it surprises people that I'm not a great reader (nor do I listen to NPR; I read it.)

And I'm rather tickled by all the moralizing that ranks which books are better than others.   Especially since two hundred years ago, the moralistic readers eschewed all fiction, focusing on poetry; only silly low-class girls read novels (unless the novels were high-minded satire, like Fielding's, but then low-class girls didn't read those!!)

The best books for me are the books I like.  The best books for you are the want you like to read.  Period.  Anyone who says otherwise, just has issues about their own bookshelves (or education)--guilt, regret, insecurity, even envy.  I spent the first three decades of my life reading what I had to for class.  Now I get to choose . . . .and right now, it's the medieval English history Hild and the 1920s Australian mysteries featuring Phryne Fisher.

Happy reading!!!

To-Do Doodles

With rain pouring outside and with a break from crochet, I played with my "to-do list" from the Hibernate workshop AND the art supplies I got for Christmas, doodlling two more versions, using just the main verbs: