Manifest plainness,
Embrace simplicity,
Reduce selfishness,
Have few desires.
~ Lao-tzu (604 BC – 531 BC), The Way of Lao-tzu
[I’ve posted this bit of poetry before, but it bears repeating]
The peach blossoms have been replaced by almond-sized green nubs, getting ever closer to peaches with each passing day. Yum!
:)
Starting during the last Christmas season, I’ve tried to have every gift I send be handmade. It’s not always possible for me to make the items myself, so when I’m pressed for time I look to Etsy for extra-special gifts. Because I’ve just loved everything I’ve ordered, I thought it would be fun to share some of my favorite sellers:
For jewelry I just love SaraArts (such pretty swingy earrings), DornickDesigns (where I found the groovy tree of life necklace that I’m so fond of), PolishedTwo (such gorgeous stones), the artsy pendants of MadisonCraft Studios, and the Parisian-style earrings of JenniferRydin Designs (oolala!). Although I’m not a ‘fancy’ person, I do love pretty things, and I get a lot of pleasure out of wearing and gifting jewelry these days.
For the items I crochet, I’ve ordered recycled yarn from Soulful Hues. She unravels old sweaters and then dyes the yarn in wonderfully bright and groovy colors. Gorgeous!
For paper goods I’ve purchased items from RedCaboose (who, unfortunately, has an empty shop right now, but she’s the one who made the darling tags I added to my holiday gifts) and from JumpingJackDesigns (you just take a look at those catnap notecards and tell me that you can resist!).
I don’t want to tell this story, really, but I will anyways.
On Wednesday afternoon I felt a strange burning on my left calf–in the area where my wound was from 10 days ago. Later that night after being on my feet for a few hours at some meetings, as I got undressed I realized that my lower leg was raw and swollen. I passed the night feverish and in increasing pain. By Thursday morning I realized that I needed to see a doctor, and soon.
It’s hard having just one leg, to have something go awry like this. Ambulation became nearly impossible, I couldn’t drive, I was getting increasingly scared about the hot red swelling spreading up my leg.
Long story short: I am on some antibiotics and I haven’t left the couch since returning home from the doctor. We are watching carefully for signs of further problems but so far all seems okay.
This incident has caused me to consider many things: the problems of antibiotic resistance, my vulnerability to infection, and my dependence on John & the kids. I find myself continuingly grateful for a spouse who keeps a job that he dislikes so I can have good health insurance.
But the overriding emotion for me, in all this, has been fear. I am scared of pain, of being bedridden, and of having my body be out of my control. Even as I write this there’s a big knot in my stomach. Because I remember another time when my leg was red and swollen and I started spending most of my days on the couch. Since then I don’t think there’s ever been a day that I have not felt afraid that it could happen again. To me. Or to one that I love.
“Very early, I knew that the only object in life was to grow.”
~Margaret Fuller
If you went this morning to your favorite chi-chi Newport Beach nursery today to pick up a few plants for your garden and felt overwhelmed and grateful for the abundance (even as you smiled a bit inwardly at the perfectly coiffed ladies who didn’t look as though they dirtied their nails in their gardens very often), then went to your garden in the evening for planting, surprised that the scent of citrus blossoms was still in the air from your neighbor’s tree, then getting down on all fours to work the soil in the bed that will host the strawberries, then the peppers, then the eggplants, then planting your newest type of lavender and a shaggy bush of chamomile (it smells of afternoon tea already).
And if this is you, you were a bit overwhelmed by how much work still has yet to be done to get your garden all set for summer, but you realized that you don’t begrudge any of the time that it will take.
Today as I sat in silence, an old song was running through my mind. It’s a ballad by LDS songwriter Michael McLean and each verse portrays a stage of a women’s life and has her perplexed by her role in her various relationships–with friends, spouse, children and spiritual journey. The refrain asks “Which part is mine and which part is yours?”
I thought about this song as I pondered my various relationships. I wondered, for example, about my children’s growing autonomy. At what point do I intervene and help them to solve their problems and when do I let them learn their own lessons? How much do I hover? When it is better to let them strike out on their own? How can I affirm my love without stifling them or breaking their will? And are there moments when I am too aloof, too absorbed in my own projects?
I thought about it in terms of my relationship with John. I considered the significant investment I have in him and how difficult it is for me when, like this last week, he is out of town. And I wonder what the best balance is between absorbing myself in him and pursuing my own goals & desires? I considered those moments when my being self-focused weakens our relationship. Yet I also think that, in many ways, I can only be a good partner when I have a strong self to offer. Which part is mine and which part is his, indeed?
This line of thought also has resonance with my involvement in the larger community of Friends. For the past two years I’ve mostly been a recipient–indulging in the efforts of others’ planning, sharing, and ministry. This has been a necessary time to nourish my wounded soul. Accepting the care of others has allowed me space and time for healing. I wonder, though, if it isn’t my turn to serve? As I sat in Meeting today and acknowledged each person in the circle I realized that I have much to give. I am no longer the girl in corner who is constantly on the verge of tears, who has no voice to speak in Meeting. Perhaps ironically, this brings to mind some words from my patriarchal blessing, an admonishment to “move with confidence because there are many who look to you as an example and who will receive encouragement from you through your example.” I am starting to feel that it is “my part” to become more active in the Meeting community. Perhaps it is time to return some of what I have received.
You know I love my peaches…so I am just thrilled by the blossoms covering my tree this season! :)
What is thrilling you right now?
Measure your health by your sympathy with morning and spring. If there is no response in you to the awakening of nature –if the prospect of an early morning walk does not banish sleep, if the warble of the first bluebird does not thrill you –know that the morning and spring of your life are past.
~Henry David Thoreau
Reverence the highest, have patience with the lowest. Let this day’s performance of the meanest duty be thy religion. Are the stars too distant? Pick up the pebble that lies at thy feet, and from it learn the all.
~Margaret Fuller
[Note: this iris is one of the beauties blooming in my garden right now. I love the two-toned purples. Nearly everyone who passes by comments on how spectacular these flowers look.]
Today is GameBoy’s birthday. He’s been an never-ending stream of joy since the day he arrived. :)
This past year he’s grown more confident, more self-assured. His favorite subject is science and he can discuss nearly any scientific topic at length. He loves games, good food, and helping others. He is a library aide, a Science Olympian, a bike rider, a trash taker-outer, a cat caretaker, a reader of SciAm, and a darn good bear-hugger.
As he chooses classes for next year and looks forward to college (and beyond), he makes this Mom proud. GameBoy is trustworthy, diligent, and mirthful. He makes wise choices. He is thoughtful of others. He is joy.
What can we do but keep on breathing in and out,
modest and willing, and in our places? ~Mary Oliver
Last night in our Study Group, a friend gave an awesome lesson about world religions and what we can glean from various faith traditions to augment our own spiritual paths. She read a passage about the difference between ‘western’ traditions versus ‘eastern’ traditions, specifically noting that western traditions emphasize progression whereas the eastern foster satisfaction with the here and now–“being” in the moment.
I’ve been thinking about that a lot today. I often work so hard to achieve things, yet I crave just sitting in solitude or the time to lose myself in a flower or to lie across my bed with a purring cat beside me. I have so many lofty goals–books to write, places to travel, classes to teach, and so on. But I feel a tension between the ambition it will take to accomplish these goals…and the desire to sit in solitude.
I think for now I am choosing the latter. And tomorrow I will take up the pursuit again. But today, I may just breathe awhile.
The best things in life are nearest: Breath in your nostrils, light in your eyes, flowers at your feet, duties at your hand, the path of right just before you. Then do not grasp at the stars, but do life’s plain, common work as it comes, certain that daily duties and daily bread are the sweetest things in life.
~Robert Louis Stevenson
I just remembered that John bought me a mochi confection yesterday from the Asian market, and it’s waiting in the fridge for me right now.
I am a lucky girl.
I often just hold my breath as I read through the posts on Persisting Sighs. They are crisp like the snap of clean sheets and lush like smell of rose petals at sunset.
Today Madelyn quoted Neruda and channeled just how I felt earlier today, when I didn’t have the word to express what I saw:
Naked you are as simple as one of your hands,
smooth, terrestrial, tiny, round, transparent,
you have moon~lines, apple paths.
Naked you are as thin as bare wheat,
Naked you are blue like a Cuban night,
there are vines and stars in your hair,
Naked you are enormous and yellow
like summer in a gilded church.
~Pablo Neruda
Meet Fred, one of the little sapling trees that I planted in the burn area on Saturday. Fred was named in honor of my neighbor Fred Rogers. Next year I can’t wait to see how he’s grown, even though I like him just the way he is.
