Monday Night at the Blue Castle
One bear asleep upstairs, one bear asleep by the fire, one mama almost asleep on the sofa, one Kettle Slayer making music in his studio.
The first day at work after vacation always feels longer and more exhausting than other work days. I am tired.
Reentry is not my strong suit. I made careful preparations this time around. Packing my lunch and my work bag the night before. Making sure the work phone was charged. Having my clothes chosen and ready. Going to bed on time. Ensuring there was a plan for dinner. These things are key.
Even more important is effort on my part to have a happy heart. It is easier on all of us when I choose to be happy and kind when I most want to be tired and crabby. Today was a success.
One of my Stewardship of Self resolutions this year is to go to bed on time. Somewhere in my heart I think that grown-ups should be able to stay up as long as they want to. And that time is at least 11PM. Just one problem. My body doesn’t want to be up that late. And I am finally making an effort to trust that going to sleep by 10 will make my world a better place.
What self-care are you working on in 2016?
A Year In Faith: Introduction
Nativity at Monterey UCC
Every Sunday we take the bears to worship with us. Even though Pablo and I no longer live in the same house, we count ourselves blessed to be parents together and we attend the same church. The larger smallish bear is of that age when church-going makes little to no sense. To be fair, it makes little sense to most people. And yet it is important to us to share these traditions. Why?
I’ve been thinking about this for several months, not sure how to articulate my thoughts. And then I remembered, hey, I have this place that I write about things and figure them out. What a great use of that space! So, here we are at the beginning of A Year in Faith. Maybe, while writing these thoughts and hearing the ideas of others, I’ll learn a way to describe to the bears what I hope they gain from the practices we have chosen. And, equally important, what I hope they won’t gain.
As I’ve shared before, faith is incredibly personal. I do not believe there is a single correct way to interact with the divine. These experiences are my own and not meant to speak for all creation.
Today our congregation celebrated our Epiphany pageant. Our pastor reminded us much of what we see is simply story and tradition. Who knows how many wise men there were?
What I hope the bears gain from this experience is the knowledge that all ages are included and loved by God. Our pageant is intergenerational by design and now by necessity. We don’t have enough children to fill all of the roles! By including the adults, the children learn that they are valued by more than just their parents. The adults get a chance to be humbled (did you see those hats?) and to become child-like. It is beautiful to me.
We sing many familiar songs. There are few places in American society that group singing still happens. Beauty and magic there too.
We sing less familiar songs. These words too tell stories of our tradition. It is good to get them out and dust them off. Good to read them and know them.
More thoughts on hymnody and singing later on, I’m sure.
Perhaps the most important thing is that we are a community. A community that chooses to be together and support each other. This is another piece to explore.
The bears don’t know I’ve been thinking about this. Sometime this week I’ll begin asking them questions and then they’ll figure out something is up. I look forward to hearing their ideas too.
One of the hymns we sang today captures some of what I’m thinking of:
As with gladness, men of old
Did the guiding star behold;
As with joy they hailed its light,
Leading onward, beaming bright;
So, most gracious Lord, may we
Evermore be led to Thee.
(From the hymn As With Gladness Men of Old)
I want to pass on traditions in a useful and meaningful way. A way that brings my bears closer to a divinely contented and connected life.
2016 Ideas
2015 was the year of many changes. New job, new house, new health challenges, teenager-almost-but-not-quite-adult. A busy year. I feel as though we ended it happier than we began and am looking forward to the joy 2016 will bring.
As always, there are resolutions for the new year. I take great pleasure in making and attempting to keep these, sometimes trading one for another or abandoning some completely. Change is inevitable.
Many of my resolutions feel more personal this year. There is work to do internally. That is inevitable as well.
I picked eight words to describe what I hope to experience and/or embody this year: joy, presence, prosperity, love, balance, creation, completion, and serendipity.
A broad concept weaving through many of my goals and plans is to use what I have. I don’t always need to run out and buy. The first shop should be my own resources.
One easily measurable goal is to walk 550 miles this year. I am excited to see and feel how that works out.
There are quilts and sweaters and bits of knitting and writing to finish. I am still finding my space in this new house. Settling in and completing projects. The new house comes with new projects too. I am almost done with dining room curtains.
Today the year is full of hope and promise. May it continue to be so!
Worth Keeping, Worth Letting Go
Today’s theme for the 2015 Advent Photo Project was I wish I’d done it earlier.
I saw it while I was at work and knew exactly what my photo would be. Work, dinner, an extra walk (hit that ten mile week!!), bears. All of these things filled the evening until this moment.
And just like that, ten minutes later, fifteen years and fifteen pounds of unhappy words are out of my house.
I kept a page about Lima Bean’s first piano recital, the page where I wrote about Lady Bug’s arrival (months later), a card from a high school friend, an Advent idea I wanted to try, a think of me note someone added to my journal, and some sketches of quilt blocks. Six pieces of paper. I didn’t find the notebook I had after Lima Bean was born or I’d have saved her arrival story too.
I feel better now than when I wrote all of that. For a long time, I thought I needed to keep it to remind myself of my mistakes and to prove to myself that some of the more horrible things had happened. Newsflash: I don’t need the paper reminders.
Here’s to a happier, lighter life. And to valuable real estate on my bookshelf!
Steps. Lots of Steps.
When I got out of hospital in July, I was determined to work towards a healthier me by moving more. My natural inclination is to knit by the fire, or by the lake, or sit and text on the couch. At work I sit at my desk and run meetings and conference calls. Occasionally I have to go from the 3rd floor to the 5th floor. Not much physical activity in my normal routine.
In August I set my step goal at 3000 steps a day. Still in pain and weakened from the hospital stay, even 3000 was a challenge. Finally in October I was reaching my goal often enough that I bumped it up to 4000. And then 5000 in November.
We moved in there too and suddenly I was living in a safer neighborhood and able to walk bears to school in the morning or add extra steps at night. I started intentionally adding walks to my day. Walking to church. Walking just to walk.
Increasing the step goal has been one marker of progress, but my eyes have been on a bigger prize – a ten mile week. Not ten miles of incidental walking, but ten miles of exercise walking. This would have been unimaginable a year ago.
I think I’ll hit it this week! My father’s second heart attack has reminded me again how fragile our bodies are, especially if we don’t put any effort into taking care of them. I am motivated and excited to feel how easy a mile and a half is now.
Today I walked to and from the hospital. As of this moment I’m at 10486 steps for the day. I don’t anticpate making that daily, still it is thrilling to see it is possible.
A favorite walking destination
A ten mile week!! It’s going to happen. Already I’m excited about the next goal. What will it be?
Everyday Algebra
A thirteen stitch lace motif from one designer added to a fifty-two stitch fingerless mitt from another designer, preferably centered and properly spaced from the thumb. So that’s fifty-two divided by two less thirteen and then divided by two again. Only that’s not even so move the thumb over one stitch and hope for the best.
This is the sort of math I’m doing tonight. Once it’s sorted, I’ll be able to make this my take-along project, but the set up must happen at home in the quiet. Happily, I’m far enough along in my knitting life to remember to write down both the plan and what I actually did so that the second mitt has a chance of matching the first. I just need to remember to reverse things a little so that both motifs end up on the backs of the hands.
This handy chart should help. Really.
Friday Night Lights
This is exactly where I needed to be tonight. Find your quiet, find your light. Be restored and ready to go back into the world.
Two Steps Forward
December Desk
November was supposed to be recover the desk area month. I am happy to report that some of these items are newly deposited, but it is obvious we have not achieved recovery yet.
Sometimes when the bears have a particularly rough day, we end the night with, “Try again tomorrow!”
So now December becomes Tidy the Desk month and we try again.
What is the space supposed to be? I keep coming back to this question. Am I even a desk person?
I like to write letters at the desk. And to pay bills. And it’s a good surface for little crafty projects that need a flat space. The window is good for inspiring daydreams.
If the desk was gone, what would I want in that space? This is one of my favorite house-y questions. What belongs here? Can it be an empty space? Are there items living on the desk that couldn’t live elsewhere?
I want the desk. I want to be a desk person. Let’s see how December plays out.
November Desk
In the Kitchen
Day Thirty: Treasures
I found these at our second-hand shop. The felt ribbons are worn and the gold bits are rubbed off in some spots. I love them. And even though they are definitely not shatter-resistant, I brought them home and they will become part of our Christmas. Already, I am imagining unwrapping them in ten or fifteen years.
I wonder where they lived before they came to our house. Were there happy Christmases? Were they passed on because they no longer matched the wallpaper? Who chose them? Were they a gift?
There is a story in this little box. Maybe Advent will inspire imaginings.
Naming Mountains 