Thursday, February 11, 2016

"For home, church & school"


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I grew up on tales of Mom sending my brothers (both varsity athletes) off to away games with the reminder to be on their best behavior - “for home, church & school.”

Home, church & school. 

One of the things that came up during the Rowe writing workshop was a peaceful – in every way – pondering of my deepest feelings about each of those three entities, each of which continues to loom large in my life.   

Thanks to the workshop's focus on being truthful rather than safely acceptable, the past weeks have been a gentle cascade of new perspectives, including my views on home, church & school.  


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One basic thing I grasped was how each of those three have been, for me, hallmarked with paradox.   

Mom drummed into us the importance of open communication - then did everything in her power to make sure it didn’t happen.  

The church taught that EVERYTHING is a reflection of masculine & feminine spiritual qualities conjoined – everything except the priesthood.   

The school taught that females have the right of refusal – yet girls were expected to accept the first invitation to a dance or party, even if she didn’t like the fellow.  

Paradoxes to the point of irony & beyond!

There are many points of paradox within my community, which literally consists of my home, church & school.  This was brought home to me recently as I tried to round up three volunteers to help for one hour at a Valentine’s weekend brunch honoring the olders & elders in our local senior community, a thank you for being awesome role models & mentors. 

Because I lack a personal network of go-to friends to help out, I posted multiple requests on Facebook.  Six friends posted replies:

  • One was a friend from childhood.  We grew up right next door to each other.  For 40+ years, he hasn’t lived in the same state, let alone the same little hometown.  There was his reply, sharing his regret that he couldn’t help, but sending his best wishes for a fun event.
  • One was from a friend who was born & bred in a church community up in Canada, who came down to Bryn Athyn for high school & college, who lived here for many years, but is currently back in Canada.  There was her reply, sharing her regret she couldn’t help, but sending her best wishes for a fun event.
  • One was from someone who became a friend when we both worked at the same place, whose primary connection to my community is occasionally stopping by the May-Oct farmers market.  There was her reply, sharing her regret she couldn’t help, but sending her best wishes for a fun event.
  • One was from someone who came into my life over Chinese food, following Sunday services at Circle of Miracles, in Chalfont, someone who has become a dear friend, advisor, inspiration in my life.  There was her reply, sharing her regret she couldn’t help, but sending her best wishes for a fun event.
  • One was from a community powerhouse in the town snug next to mine.  She wasn’t sure she could make it, but offered to pull together a trio of kids from her local high school.  There was her reply, offering to help make the event happen, hoping she could stop by herself (if she’s not helping her son move into his apartment), sending her best wishes for a fun event.
  • And then there was the reply from someone I only know through Facebook, who became part of our community several years ago, who said, “Don’t worry.  I will get two other people & will be there on Saturday morning so this can happen.”  Which she did, recruiting two other community members to lend a hand from 10-11 a.m. making sure the olders & elders are all served & satisfied. 


Those were the sum total of the replies to my request.  Not a single person who were raised within the community & is still part of it responded with so much as a “Wish I could help.  Alas, it is the Marriage Conference –OR- my son’s hockey game  –OR-  I’m fighting a wretched cold  –OR- …, BUT am sending my best wishes for a fun event.”   


This from a community that prides itself on its outreach, on how it gathers around those in need, provides shelter in every type of storm.  And not a single person took a moment to post so much as a “You go, girl!”


My hometown talks a lot about the beauty & power of community, but faces several often unrecognized challenges, including its still heavily hierarchical structure. Still not clear on how that explains the lack of connection & encouragement, but am getting there. (The groups - and there are several! - who seem to be doing the most effective outreach seem to be the least hierarchical.)


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That's the most active paradox in my here & now life ~  my beloved community’s pride at being over-the-top responsive when not a single person sent a single word of encouragement.   

Maybe my view of community is different.  My hometown is waaaay less insular than it was, but it has a ways to go to get past generations of top-down hierarchy & a funky sense of entitlement.   

Leafing through an old brochure (Winter 2014-15) of Rowe workshops, got to wondering - which of my friends on the pastoral staff are familiar with, even followers of presenters like Mary Catherine Bateson, Joanna Macy, Ysaye Darnwell, Mel Kimura Buchholtz? 

On many levels, my community is WAY better than it was in reaching out a helping hand, in being there for others.  But I sense it still struggles on some levels with grasping the concept of community as I understand it, as it’s discussed at places like Rowe & Omega, Esalen & Kripalu.

My community consists of home, church & school, all tucked within my little hometown.  But it feels to me like my view of community is out of step with a surprising number of folks within that circle of friends & pleasant acquaintances, while very much on track with my growing circle outside of it. 

What don’t they get that Bill, Gwenda, Michele, Tricia & Debra do?  Will keep on pondering.


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Friday, February 5, 2016

What does it say...


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What does it say that everyone who responded to my FB pleas for help at next Saturday's C.V. brunch live outside my little hometown?  

Over half of them have never met any of the fabulous role models & mentors living there.  Yet, there they were, sharing regrets for not being able to lend a hand - one was in Arizona, one in Canada - and their encouraging "You, go girl!" comments.  

There was Denise, so quintessentially herself, offering her help lining up kids to make it happen - Denise, who loves our community but lives right next door, who was ready to line up Lower Moreland high school students to make my dream event a reality.  

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There was the angel who did make it all come together, a fairly recent & already irreplaceable part of our wee small burgh. 

Encouragement, cheerleading, offers of help from Arizona & Canada, Chalfont & Philly, two from H.V. - and not a single word from anyone in the little hometown whose fabled olders & elders are being honored.  
 
Not sure what that says, but will be pondering.


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Awe struck


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Yesterday sublimely set up a great start to this morning.  It was a quiet day, no big fireworks or AH HA! moments, just life unfolding at its own pace, in its own magical way.

Was in bed by 10:30 p.m.; when I woke by just before 5:00 a.m., felt rested & at peace.  Snugged by for an extra 15 minutes or so before the alarm was set to go off.  By the time I'd run through this morning's gratitudes & sent out my loving blessings & turned to flip off the alarm, just in time to keep it from its scheduled blare.

Pulled off the book - Point Zero - from my night stand, gathered up my glasses & headed for the back window for my moment of awe.  

Awe, indeed!  I looked out over a backyard spun silver by moonlight.  Wait a minute - there wasn't any moon.  The yard was covered in a light layer of SNOW!  

After whispering hushed thanks for its beauty, headed over to the front room to say my namastes, trundled downstairs to the kitchen to tuck a sweet potato in the toaster over, then to the hall closet for John's grey coat with the cozy hood, and out I went, on my Hello, World! morning walk.

It was one moment of awe after another.  The quiet world around me, the big flakes of snow falling in swirls around the lamppost, felt like I'd stumbled into Narnia, with magic all around me.  


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I had a lovely talk with the Universe, thanking it for such a beautiful sign of gratitude for taking the best first steps to any day.  Several times, I caught myself thinking behind, to the soft wonders of yesterday, or ahead to what promises to be a singularly delightful Friday.  I'd bring my thoughts back to the here & now, the snow under my feet, kissing my face, piling a layer on John's jacket, now drying down in the basement.  

What a sweetly glorious start to a new day, a new life.  Everything transformed yesterday, without fanfare, in ways I never saw coming.  So many things are not the same today as they were yesterday, limitations & barriers have tumbled in ways I might have set up but never seriously expected to ever experience.  


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It's only 6:15 a.m. & already it's been a remarkable day, intro'd by an beyond wonder 12 hours.  Can smell the hot pulp of my sweet potato calling me down.  Will pull it out of the toaster oven, break it open, top it with a thick layer of hummus, then another of southwest salsa, feed the cats then settle in to savor my breakfast.

For the first time, I will have gone through all the steps of my best practice rising - following a restful night's sleep, up at 5:15 a.m. after saying my gratitudes & sending my blessings;  over to the back window for my moment of awe at our glorious world; downstairs for my namastes; plunk a potato in the toaster oven before heading out on a walk around the neigborhood; stay in the moment throughout the walk, not projecting forward, not glancing back, simply wrapped in the moment; maybe dash off a quick posting;  finally - as I'm about to - serve up the cats' breakfast & enjoy my own.  

And it all happened without effort.  It unfolded as naturally as a rose unfurling its petals.  

Am awe struck by the quiet, simple, profound blessings that surround & fill me.  Thank you, Universe.  Thank you, All That Is.  I am filled with gratitude & wonder.



Credits:
electricalbee.deviantart.com
moussee.deviantart.com
digitalcosmonaut.com


 

Tuesday, February 2, 2016

Organic loving

Originally posted at older2elder...  



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Just last week, I threw together a posting on the gift of addressing issues while they're active, rather than putting them on pause, then bringing them when it feels safer.  Today, am pondering the power of letting things unfold, let them develop organically rather than trying to modify them to what we think would be best.  To hand over control & just let whatever will be, be.

My brother is in the hospital.  Over the years, our relationship has veered to & from & back again - iffy to dicey to rocky to zip.  Praise be, we were at an uncharacteristically good place when Mim slipped from us last July, that we are at a pleasant spot now that he's down at Jefferson Hospital, in the heart of Philadelphia, facing surgery later this week for an enlarged thyroid.


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Peter has been clear that he will call us when it is convenient, that he's out a lot for tests & other medical stuff, so we're not to bother trying to connect with him.  He has likewise discouraged visits.  

But John & I are headed down Jeff' tonight!  Sorry, Peter, but we gotta.  

I'd held off sending get well wishes until getting a better idea of what's up.  Since he's probably going to still be there over the weekend, figured if I shot one off today, he'd still be there when it arrived.  BUT then I found the just-right card ~ one I have no memory of buying ~ tucked into the just-right book, that's the just-right size to hold two pictures we expected to give on Valentine's Day.  Whitney, around 8 years old; Reynolds at around 5 or 6 on the other.  Goosebumps!


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Yep, found it in  Sisters, which I was using as a writing table.  The card is 5" x 5", same as each photo.  Spooky wonderful!

So, off we will go - after rush hour.  Should be a pleasant ramble along the River Drive, down the Parkway, over to Jeff'.  Drop in for a visit, to give him the card.  Do NOT do the usual family thing of leaving it for him to find once we've left or asking one of the staff to give after we've gone.  Hand it to him, directly!  Enjoy the smiles & accept the thanks.  Jolly way to organically savor an active blissed-out state! 



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Wednesday, January 27, 2016

Addressing active issues


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There were so many gifts & graces from Mom to me.  I like to think that one she got from me was the idea of only addressing issues when they're active, not long after they come up. 

Mom had this interesting tendency of bringing up hot button topics well after a situation had passed.  Days & weeks.  Or even longer, as part of another discussion.

Made a lot of sense, if the point was to keep things calm, non-contentious.  The same reason she'd bury super sensitive information in the middle of a sunny, social note.  The woman loathed confrontation.  


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This whole "only bring up issues when they're active" approach radically changed her world.  It was fascinating in ways I never could have imagined, experiencing her give the idea value, then try to live it.  Her progress was illuminating.

It wasn't easy.  It meant that Mom had to be aware of how she was feeling, when & while she was actually feeling it.  That was a whole new, funky foreign idea for her.  She was used to feeling afterward, when it was safe.  But she stuck with it.  

First, she had to feel within an active moment.  Then, she had to understand how she was holding those feelings.  She had to let whatever feelings come up that wanted to, come up THEN, not later.  For which, I am proud to say, Mom was totally game.  In her late 80s & willing to upset the apple cart of her tried & true traits.  Epic!

It took a stunningly short time to register with Mom that this new way of experiencing was way less draining than the old.  She only had to notice & address - or not - stuff as it was happening.  Wow!  If she didn't notice, or noticed & didn't address, she didn't need to lug it around with her.  Liberation!


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Mind you, it didn't happen overnight & parts of it probably always remained a challenge.  This was a woman who'd survived by NOT noticing, who'd never felt she had the right to have her own issues that deserved airing, who did everything possible to stay emotionally safe.  

Smiling, remembering how she learned to write letters that started out setting up an important share, instead of burying it in the heart of fluff!  

Oh, rats - am now in tears, remembering how happily Mom embraced the idea of doing something absolutely outside of her nature & nurture.  Well, maybe not so outside her nature as I thought.  


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Am thinking about all of this today, sitting here trying to figure out an ancient family issue that's suddenly active.  My oldest brother is in the hospital down in Philadelphia.  I am outside of the information chain, not by choice.  Do I make a stink & find out what's happening, or do I respect what seems to be the dynamic the family finds works for them?  It's not like I'm someone Peter feels close to - he is as close as works for him & when it doesn't, we aren't.  

Finding myself mentally fixing a cup of hot tea, setting out some Girls Scout shortbread cookies, settling in at a table that for decades & decades was our roosting place (it's now out on the back porch), having a heartfelt mother/daughter, friend-to-friend talk with Mom about best next steps.  


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Maybe doing nothing is the right answer.  Let people approach me, rather than bust in on them.  Give them their space, even if it feels like I'm being a lousy sister.

An ancient family issue is suddenly active.  This is what I talked to Mom about, all those years ago - a great opportunity to do things differently, hopefully better.  If only I knew what that is.



Credits
tiffany.com
psychologia.com 
mindingmynest.com
natureandnurture-ici.org
groupon.com

Tuesday, January 26, 2016

Unbalancing act


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The older I get, the more astonishing it is how little is certain in my life.  And how poorly prepared I feel to create & maintain any semblance of sanity with all the disparate forces yapping at my heels.

Which ancient injuries should be left to self-heal in my psyche?  Which need a touch of salve, which require professional attention?  

Which issues touching those who matter do I let register on my radar, which do I let flit off the screen?  

Which friends do I see bleeding & help, which are beyond my limited abilities, which wouldn't accept a caring hand if they were hemorrhaging?


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The hardest thing is deciding which life purposes that speak to my heart have to be tenderly tucked away, destined for other loving hands to take them up.  

One of the great benefits to composing - over how many years? - my still unsubmitted crowdfund request has been narrowing what I want to accomplish over the next twelve months, which to file away for future years, which are fun to dally with, without investment.  Differentiating between the many things catching my eye, the ones that capture my attention, the few that earn my energy, the select that fill my heart.  


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Credits:
katerawlings.com 
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