Thursday, May 22, 2014

surfer girl

Although it was probably already in my nature, my tendency to boat rocking was certainly reinforced by my father's & sister's influence.  My upbringing emphasized & underscored the importance of knowing what mattered to you & sticking to it. 

That is not a quality designed for winning great success or financial rewards.  People prefer those who calm troubled waters, not try to teach folks to surf.  

Hmmm....   Interesting thought.  It's never felt like I was one to stir up placid waters; my focus is on helping others ride whatever waves come their way.  But it means they have to get wet & become familiar with their environment, have a well-designed board, learn how to maintain balance, and come back up unscathed if they do get tossed off.  And that's way more than a lot of people want to risk.    

wrapped in hugs

wrapping in hugs

Over the decades, certain words from each of my surviving family members helped illuminate what to expect from each of them.  

From Mom - "I thought I could. I can't."
 
From Dad -  "Kay, I'm only taking her at her word.  She said she didn't care if she went trick or treating on Halloween."

From Peter - "How could anything I did cause YOU any harm?  I wasn't in your life enough to cause harm."
 

From Mike (in a letter to Mom)  - "If you are doing this (seeking a clearer sense idea of who SHE was) because it makes your children happy, it doesn't."

From Mim - "I bet you think that I talk to Mark (her psychologist) about you a lot.  I never talk with him about you."

ONE of those defining statements infer an appreciation of healthy adult attitudes.  Dad's - god bless him!!  Someone in the family had some expectation, however fleeting, of adult behaviors from the rest of us.  Even in  6th grade, I got it & appreciated the lesson.

Way over a quarter century later, Peter would - in a blessed 60-minute joint session we shared with a counselor - point to that very statement as a primary example of what an atrocious father we had, while I experienced it, even at the time (!), as the gold standard of good solid parenting.  Yes, my 6th grade heart was broken. Oh, I wept & wailed & begged Dad to let me go out on Halloween.  Mom beseeched him  - "Pete, she's just a little girl."  But Dad held firm - he held me to my word.  

At a remarkably young age, my father taught me an invaluable lesson ~ ~ be careful what you say, because people will take you at my word.

So, a big high five  & hug to Dad!  Wrapping each of the others in a tender hug - it wasn't easy having me for a baby sister, perhaps especially after Ian died.  Because they had difficulties with my who & how, Mom did too.  Or maybe she considered me as UN as the rest.  Poor woman, trying to create a placid family life when how we saw & what we sought from life was so wildly different.  

How luscious to be 62, looking back & seeing only love & learning.  Taking a moment to hug myself!!! 

Wednesday, May 21, 2014

the stuff that dreams are made of

In the wee small hours of this morning, side-by-side dreams garnered several AH HA! moments.

Twice I had dreams about fathers of children in classes that got monthly delivery of my baked goodies.  Both asked, "Why does the American Beef Council have you (me) do that for our kids?"

Both times, I answered, "I am the American Beef Council."  

In the dreams, both dads looked at me, disbelieving & wondering why I'd make nibblings for their kids over the years & say I was doing it on behalf of a corporate entity.  Both times, I shared my experience that others found it easier to accept that an impersonal business group would sponsor it than someone with no personal ties & little money.

The American Beef Council bit was totally the fluff & fiction of dreams, but the rest has been - over many, many years - my experience.  People DO tend to find it weird that I do things for kids with no connection to me other than breathing on the same planet at the same time.  Ditto for adults I barely know, for olders with no other connection than holding my respect. 

No one has summed up my WHY better than a young friend, long ago.  In my B.C. years - before cats - I'd often hold creativity workshops for kids at my home.  No charge, no kidding.  Gray was a regular.  One time, he brought a friend.  This young boy seemed a bit uncertain of himself.  Finally, he came over to me & asked, "Why do you do this if you don't charge any money?"  He couldn't figure out what I got out of the deal.  

Before I could respond, Gray looked over at him, rolled his eyes, and responded, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world, "Because she loves us."

He said it all.  All of "us" ~ whoever "us" might be at any given moment.  Wholly & completely & blissfully.

In my experience, Gray represents the teeny percentage of people who get it.  Most are like the friend, wondering what I get out of the deal.  Most would find it easier to buy a cover story like the American Beef Council underwriting such efforts than an occasionally financially-challenged individual doing it for the love of life &  living.

When I woke up this morning & shared the double dreams with John, it made me recall - who knows why - the scathing response of numerous GOP pundits to the hashtag #bringhomeourgirls.  What does it say about them that they don't get wanting to do something, anything, even if it mere symbolism of drawing together over a massive grievous wrong?  What do we get out of the deal of taking a picture holding a placard?  What does it say that they don't get that there are times that resorting to symbolism is all you can do when you're powerless - for so many reasons - to do more?  They ridicule FLOTUS holding up the hashtag, not getting that it didn't originate with her but that she was showing solidarity with the thousands of Nigerians - women & men  - grieving their stolen girls.  What does it say that Ann Coulter & her ilk just don't get it?  

What would she think about a woman like me, investing time, energy & money doing things for kids who barely know who I am, when they know me at all?  My guess is that I'd be open to ridicule, too.

Over the years, I've certainly experienced people - young & old - openly wondering why I'd take a 1st grade under my wing & do things for the class, straight through their high school senior year.  Why I'd do it for the ANC Classes of 2010, 2011 (Girls School only), 2013, 2016, 2023.  Like Ann Coulter with the hashtag, they just don't get it.  To a shocking # of them, it's a waste of my resources.  

Heck, I didn't really have much of a clue why it was important for me.  Now, in May 2014, it's quite clear.  "My" ANC Class of 2010 are now Class of 2014 graduates from countless colleges & universities.  My 1st graders are all grown up.  And I got glimpses of those journeys.  What did I get out of the deal?  Riches beyond my wildest dreams.  

After last night, I know what to say when someone asks me - and they will  - "Why do you put yourself out, spending time & money, to do things for others who rarely take the time to pause & acknowledge, let alone thank you; when so many find it at least a little strange, are even put off by it;  when there is no tangible pay back in it for you?"

The fact is I didn't expect any sort of acknowledgment, let alone thanks - I grew up with that as a given.  I wasn't ruffled or in the least disturbed when others found actions suspect, assumed a hidden agenda  - I grew up with that as the norm.  I didn't expect any special pay back for investing my time, energies, resources - I didn't get any growing up.  My personal WHY for doing any of it was that doing for others has always been a delightful way of honoring & celebrating the beauty of life.  It's not special;  just grew up that way.

Maybe the dreams came to me last night because I spent the morning beyond blissed out, helping Lori Soneson Odhner at a Mom's Morning Out - parents dropped off kinder (barely toddler to almost pre-school age) & volunteers like moi kept them engaged & happy.  

Afterward, I walked down to Be Well Bakery & Cafe, where I ran into a group of "my" Class of 2010 kinder, basking in the warm afternoon sun & the glow of their recent/imminent college/university graduations.  I was greeted with the warm embrace of smiles & dancing happy eyes, a sense of light-heart, light-touch affection - and that was NOT something I grew up feeling.  Boy, howdy, did I get it from them!  

It's a pay back I get every time I see parents post a graduation picture on Facebook.  I get it from the smiles & waves of schoolmates when we spot each other at homecoming, from long-ago DEKA members who remember me dropping off goodies for gals far from home, from Grant Hall residents who remember similar nibblings & offers to take them on bops around the area, from BAC students the Gramster & I fed as the "Mom Squad" which I changed to the "Muffin Lady" after she was reunited with Dad, from the BACS grades I took under my wing over the years.  

Receiving so much more than I ever expected, it's pretty clear to me that I got the best part of the deal.  

Still do.  Can't describe how it feels to hear my Cairnwood Village friends delight over a Monday Minister's Tea spread - for me, it's pay back for all they've done for all of us throughout their lives.  

Can't describe the great fun of putting on an after-church spread; about as close as this Martha Stewart wanna be gets to entertaining in my A.C. (after cats) life.  

Or my startled glee at having one of the college students hear Laura call me "Deev" & ask for an intro - "I've always wondered if there really is an Aunt Deev & now I got to meet you!  Thanks for the goodies for Grant Hall & the college."  

Or how it feels at Charter Day when someone confides that a nibbling from me or a casual wave, a caring smile wave made a difference during a difficult time way back when.  

At 62, it's clear that investing time, energy, resources into  doing for others - strangers, friends or family - is a big deal for me.  I grew up doing it, love doing it in the here & now, can envision a long life of doing a lot more.  If others find it weird or suspect or would have an easier time buying that an impersonal entity like the American Beef Council would sponsor it rather than Tiggerish, vegetarian Pollyanna ME, then so be it.  Wrapped up in too much glee to care!!

Thank you to whatever inner, outer or Upper inspirations brought this morning's dreams.  They stirred me deeply, leading to this post & plans for a bunch more.  What undreamt-of riches grace my life!  

Life is all about paying forward.  Always has been, always will be.  It is such stuff as life is made of.  Just wish everyone grew up believing that - more fun for all!

Tuesday, May 20, 2014

The NSA & the GC

It is alarming, how far our culture has come from its spiritual origins, how strongly it embraces the very technology that is the very antithesis of our truest self.  All data, all the time is information without application.  Lethal to the human spirit.

Two things come to mind - the NSA & the G.C.  

The NSA boasts unimaginable information harvesting capabilities, yet never has our on-the-ground intelligence abilities been lacking.  All data, very little effective information.  Agencies that gather without sharing, that spin its spycraft without producing a safety net to protect the people whose freedoms they've trampled in the name of liberty.

The General Church isn't much better.  The leaders don't even seem to be able to read their own resource materials.  First up - Emanuel Swedenborg never set out to establish an organized religion.  He was a revelator, not a religious figure.  To base a worldly religion on the Writings is to use God's revelation for purpose it was never designed to serve.  Second - read the Writings.  Without the benefit of feminine perception, men are capable of intelligence without wisdom.  Where does that leave a male-only priesthood?  Just asking.

The NSA seems to feel that the more data we get, the safer & secure we will be.  The G.C. seems to feel that the more we read, the higher our understanding, the deeper our spiritual life.  Neither makes any sense.

The NSA is an example of testasterone-driven thinking gone wild & ultimately amuck.  The G.C. is an example of testasterone-driven thinking cocooning itself into a space where it can only go so far, where it can never transform into a butterfly.  

sigh...

Wednesday, May 7, 2014

When food is more than nourishment

It's TOUGH giving up eggs, milk, butter, caffeine.  So many social ties connected to them.  

If ever there was an enchantment laid upon me, it is in my connection to those foods.  Even knowing the advantages to my health gained from giving them up, found myself ordering the Daddypop's special (eggs over easy, grits with butter, buttered rye toast, coffee) instead of the oatmeal (which is very good).  MEANT to order the oatmeal.

Enchanted, and not in a good way.  

Tuesday, May 6, 2014

Abracadabra!

My life is like a fairy tale.  True for me, true for all.  Magic words wait to take us to places we never imagined.  But we have to brave the negative enchantments that surround & misguide us.  We have to stay focused on the goal with a stout heart & determined spirit.  We have to know which is the good force & which is the bad, which road leads to a treasured end, which one leads to nothingness, to trolls & deep chasms.  

How mightily we resist the simple truth - our lives are fairy tales, waiting for us to shake off the enchantment & live the life to which we were born.