Carrots and Sticks
One of the hardest lessons for me is that taking care of myself is an acceptable priority and responsibility. It is easy for me to say it to others and be encouraging as they learn, but difficult for me to practice what I preach.
I am working on this.
The Universe got my attention once again with a call to rest and better self-care. I am listening.
The glasses are my reward for making and keeping an appointment. The first appointment that leads to others. To many things. I am moving forward. Forward is my favorite.
What It Takes
As is usually the case around these parts, there are several projects going at one time. I have been trying to be faithful to keeping the small, portable projects for work out of the house, and keeping the larger more sprawling (possibly involving the sewing machine) projects at the top of the work pile at home.
Sometimes I am very good at this, but lately the allure of the quickly finished small project had found me spending all available free time knitting up tiny things. And socks.
I cut the binding for Lady Bug’s table runner about a quarter of an inch too narrow and it made all the difference between quickly sewing the whole thing up by machine or spending hours pushing my needle through several layers of thickish fabric. My thimble was missing for a while and that was a lovely excuse to put it off. Then it turned up (precisely where it belonged – hrmph) and I had to move on to the excuse of being distracted by super-cute birds. And then that bookshelf truly needed straightening. The table runner had only part of one long side and half a short side to go, but no progress was in sight.
Today I was able to spend a couple of hours by the woodstove at a friend’s home. Knowing the sewing would go quickly with the distractions of conversation and cupcakes, I packed the table runner. And a sock, just in case!
Just a couple of hours later, all the sewing was done. Lady Bug is pleased. One more project off the list.
What’s next? Well, there are a couple of quilts hanging out awaiting some attention.
Things I Love: Saturdays
Today was opera day. I am still humming bits and pieces of Rusalka as I finish tidying the bookshelves in my little room. The opera was beautiful. I am already plotting to steal a Saturday next month to go again.
The bookshelves were becoming messier than I care to live with. The organ music was all mixed up with the knitting magazines and the cookbooks were intermingled with Beethoven. Not terrible, but definitely time for a good clear out. I think about thirty pounds of assorted paper clutter made its way to the free shelf or to the recycling bin this week. (Coding books from 2007? No idea why I was saving those.)
The shelves look nicer, I can find what I’m looking for, and there’s a whole pile of beautiful magazines ready to be skimmed through and then made into more beautiful things.
I do enjoy these Saturdays. Music and home. One happy Magic Princess.
Making: Playing With Paper
An hour or so, some beloved Paper Source templates, scissors, a marker, a table knife long ago pressed into craft service, and a few magazines. That’s all it took to turn an anxious evening into something lovely.
As I finished the first envelope, Lima Bean wandered by. “Cool! I wanna make some!”
These are so much fun to make, we might be up late!
The Drive to Monterey
It is good the drive between Pittsfield and Monterey is as long as it is. Good because I use the time on the way there to shed all the worry and fuss from the week and enter their space ready to share what gifts I have been given.
Ready to breathe through any anxiety about strangers and performance and instead breathe in the love they are so willing to give. Ready to turn the switch for the electric pump on the pipe organ and hear its gentle whir as I choose stops and find my footing.
It is good the drive is long (and beautiful) and I’ve calmed inside a bit especially when the organ doesn’t whir, but instead goes woosh, woosh, woosh, and then goes silent.
With a quiet heart, I give thanks that I brought books and not just songs, make my way to the piano and plan anew.
No one is crabby when I do not start the prelude quite on time, but have to be nudged loudly (joyfully!) from the back of the sanctuary. No one mutters (at least not that I hear) when I am adding music filling up communion space while the pastor is standing still waiting for me to stop so she may continue. No one is snarky (although there were happy giggles) when I, out of habit, added an amen to the doxology.
It is good to have the preparation time that allows me to come into this moment present and whole.
And it is good the drive back is just as long, especially on Annual Meeting Day when my heart worries over hurt feelings and perceived fiscal woes.
I say perceived not because the woes are not real, but more because there is an idea that this problem is ours alone and of only we would do A, B, or C it would all disappear. As an adult, I have been a member of three different congregations and I believe if I closed my eyes during an annual meeting, I’d be hard pressed to tell you which church I was in.
All three are city churches with large buildings, smaller memberships than the sanctuaries have been designed for, and, perplexingly given the attendance, serious lack of convenient parking options. All three have generous endowment funds that have seen better days. All three have spend-it and save-it and I-don’t-care-pass-the-jello-salad members. And all three truly want to be a refuge of love and grace in our gritty, often hurtful world.
They share a common struggle and no common solutions so far. Mostly the plan of action seems to be to not change anything and worry when the money is truly gone.
The money isn’t gone yet. When it is, these people will still find ways to bring love and light to those in need. Many things will need to change. I may be making that drive more often, if only to clear my head and make room for new ideas. Epiphany isn’t over. Maybe the answers still have time to grow brighter.
This Moment
Playing along with Soule Mama this week.
{this moment}
A single photo • No words
Remember This
Some time ago I made a picture and hung it in my bathroom where I would see it every day. It said,
In this moment, you are loved and deserving of love EXACTLY as you are.
I kept it there until I was sure I believed it and then I took it to my cubicle at work where people seem to come and confess incredibly personal broken moments to me. I wanted to share a little bit of the strength I had to practice in order to have.
Today I saw someone pause to read it. And I saw them read it again. And I saw their eyes fill up. I hope very much that they read it again. And again. And again until they believe it too.
Remember this: In this moment, you are loved and deserving of love EXACTLY as you are.
Things I Love: The Free Shelf
My laboratory has a book exchange shelf filled with mostly uninteresting books. Every now and then, some potentially good finds pop up.
I am engrossed in J.M. Coetzee’s Waiting for the Barbarians. It is not a book I would have found if it hadn’t been waiting on the free shelf.
For a few days the fisherfolk are a diversion, with their strange gabbling, their vast appetites, their animal shamelessness, their volatile tempers. The soldiers lounge in the doorways watching them, making obscene comments about them which they do not understand, laughing; there are always children with their faces pressed to the bars of the gate; snd from my window I stare down, invisible behind the glass.
Then, all together, we lose sympathy with them.
The free shelf books are a gamble. Will it feel worth my time? Will it be fascinating? Will I discover something entirely unknown to me? I like the adventure of it. And when I’m done, the books usually find their way back to the shelf and onward to someone else’s to-read stack. It is a lovely part of my world.
On My Mind: Stewardship (and how it sometimes stresses me out)
It is no secret that I love (LOVE) the community, grace, and accountability I find in my faith community. It is also no secret that I understand that not everyone can relate to this. So, let’s begin here. I think everyone has experienced a moment or two where they have felt the vastness of the universe and the smallness of themselves. The smallness and the knowledge that there is still infinite space inside our own consciousness.
The language I have to describe those things is that of the Protestant church. If that is difficult to relate to, then try to find the language you know and translate a little.
I love my faith community. I love learning there. Almost every week I am challenged to look at the world a little differently and almost every week I try my best to do so. I love the meals we share together and the music we make. I love knowing the people and doing my best to be present when we interact. It is a good place for me and my family.
Part of belonging to this community is contributing to it. Our church in Wisconsin had a lovely way of explaining that this is not solely about money. We pledged to give our gifts, our prayers, our talents, and our service. (Did I get that right, Wausau folks? It’s a been a while since I’ve said those words.)
Not just money, but money does pay the staff (and I want them to have food and health insurance and things) and it does pay the utility bills (and I want to be comfortable in the building – remember the ice palace cathedral in Cleveland?) and it does keep the place in good repair.
Confession: I am on the stewardship committee here and I have not yet made my pledge commitment.
This is stressing me out!!
In Wisconsin, this was not a problem. What is different here?
There is no automatic electronic funds transfer option here. That is one contributing factor. In Wisconsin, if we missed service, our offering still got to the church on time with the bank transfer. I so wish we had that here.
Factor two: Fear and loathing in budget land. This past week we had about $700 in unexpected car expenses. When moving items around in the budget and it’s easy to put off anything that doesn’t come with a bill and a due date. I am quick to think I’ll catch up on that later. And that just doesn’t happen.
The car repair this week is covered by the ticket to Sweden money (yes, I’m still heartsick over that) and the bills will all make it in close to on time.
I want this year’s pledge to be paid in full. I know that neither my grace portion nor my membership will be revoked if it isn’t. This is about me learning discipline in relationship to the check book and about me loving this community so much that the giving is important.
So, creative stewardship. My latest great idea is to donate some music substitute Sundays. It is not stressful to plan music for four weeks. It is something I can do.
My head will be busy this next month coning up with more ideas. Maybe I can sell some knitting. Maybe I can
…more thinking to do, certainly.
Planning
The seeds came in the mail this week. I spent some time lingering over them, planning when to plant. Soon I’ll have a decent plan for where everything should go. A plan we will likely ignore when we actually begin planting.
In other news, the residents of Talarico House have been amusing themselves by hiding the puppets in various places around the house with the intent of startling others. This was in my bed the other evening.
Tomorrow I am privileged to enjoy the twin delights of possibly major car repairs and a root canal. I am doing my best to remain positive.
Naming Mountains 