Astonishment

Last night was the first of the sessions in my on-line conference with Geneen Roth, author of Women Food and God.  It was a powerful hour, that's for sure. I am still processing many of the things I heard. I wasn't thrilled with the idea of this conference taking six weeks but now I'm glad I have a week in between sessions to really absorb the information.

One of the action items for this week was to be astonished by what I already have.

This is the perfect action item for me, especially today.  My foot is terribly painful and I had to cancel having coffee with my friend Sherry because I of it. My older daughter had clothing issues this morning, which threw off our schedule and we ended up forgetting her lunch.  I'm mad at my lawn guys, which makes me feel impotent and like I'm not a good manager.

So, deep breath.

By having a little extra time to make my daughter's lunch, I was able to first go to the grocery store and buy things that she might actually, well, EAT. (I KNOW!) I had money to do so and I had the luxury of time to pick the perfect strawberries for her.  I was smiling as I packed her lunch, aware of how blessed I am and also, how blessed she is to have me as her mother. I delivered the lunch to her school and did so with a glad heart.

Sherry and I made plans for her family to come over for dinner on Saturday.  She understands my chronic pain issues and is always unfailingly flexible in accommodating them.  I am so blessed to have her as a friend.

I'm calling the yard guys today, which will make me feel all brave and efficient.

So then I started noticing all of my blessings. I would enumerate them but suffice to say, I am probably the most blessed person on this planet. And you know what else?  I am so unbelievably loved.  It takes my breath away to think of it, really. 

I'm going to spend the rest of my day feeling this amazing feeling of abundance --reveling in it, wearing it like a crown, paying it forward in my every interaction.

Joy

Look what came out of our garden yesterday.

It doesn't matter that it's a little misshapen.  It doesn't have to be perfect to fill my house of aspiring farmers with great joy.

And then I put it in my daughter's lunch today, the ultimate present.

How great is a world where we can grow our own strawberries?

Eyes

We've had house guests this weekend.

The best sort of house guests--old friends coming for some male bonding time with my husband.  It was the first time they'd been to our house in New York.

Somehow, seeing the house through their eyes made me even more appreciative of the home we've made here.  It's just spectacular weather here, too, which adds to the expansive feeling of contentment.

I'm going to try to hold on to that feeling for as long as possible and capture it for those days when my contentment is hard to find.

Phoebe

There is this fabulous live web camera trained on a hummingbird in California named Phoebe.

I got interested in her back in February because she had laid two eggs and it seemed like the world was waiting for them to hatch.  One egg proved nonviable and the other chick died trying to hatch.

So Phoebe laid two more eggs.

Those eggs were stolen by a crow.

So Phoebe laid two more eggs.

Those eggs hatched this week.

I almost couldn't bear to watch.  My heart was just broken after the first eggs I saw and I was worried the whole event would send me right over the edge and into depression.

But Phoebe, see, she never gave up.  She didn't let her past sorrows get in the way of being fully present and trying again.  The past can't hurt Phoebe. The past is past.

And now the world is richer by two little hummingbirds.

Today, I'm going to remember that the past is in the past, and the only way it can hurt me is if I let it. I'm going to just keep moving forward.

(Photo of Phoebe from her Facebook page.)

Recharged

It was a wonderful Mother's Day weekend --a great combination of family time and productive action.  And laughter --oh my goodness.  Laughter really fills my cup back up.  I am so blessed.

Today, I am going to count my blessings mindfully, and laugh whenever possible.

Beginnings

It's an odd thing that as I've begun to listen for my own inner voice, that I've started to...well...CARE about myself again.  I care enough to try to minimize my stress.  I find that I am setting boundaries for what I do with my time, instead of just reacting to the demands of other people.

Another unexpected thing that has come out of this is that I suddenly am taking a little better care of myself.  Like, I care that I haven't made time to have my teeth cleaned in two years, that I need to see a dermatologist about a suspicious spot on my arm.  I want my hair cut and have actually been thinking I might do something more than just the trim I normally get so I can stuff the whole unruly mass into a pony tail.  I'm using a little eye-cream at night.  I'm taking the time to cut up fruit for myself --FOR MYSELF ONLY --for breakfast.  In the past, I just never would have done this.  Take the time to prepare a meal just for me?  Unheard of.

Instead of thinking of myself as an after-thought, --or worse, as someone to punish for falling short of my own ideals-- I am finding some kindness for myself.

This is heady stuff for a woman who has put herself as far out of her mind as possible.

What kindness will you find for yourself today?

Presents

On Monday mornings, I try to get up a half-an-hour before my family.  Today it was actually an hour so I unloaded the dishwasher and made the coffee and even showered to try to wake myself up.

It's raining and gray and foggy outside.

I folded a load of clothes and put the next load in the dryer.  There, in the bottom of the washing machine, was a handful of loose change--fourteen cents.

I wonder what other unexpected little gifts this day will bring?

Fun

Today is Saturday, my favorite day of the week. And it's heartbreakingly gorgeous weather outside.

Today I will stay fully present with my family.  I will say "yes" whenever I can to my children and when they ask me to play with them, I will joyfully agree.  All tasks and errands will have to be fit in around our primary mission of having fun.

By engaging fully, I will make memories that will sustain me through the coming week when schedules and errands seem to scream importance. By laughing and tickling and digging in the dirt, I will fill my cup up.

Grace

Yesterday, I was reminded of the grace all around me.

My daughters and I went out to eat after their NYSSMA performances (which they both aced) and there was a bit of sibling squabbling over lunch.  As we left, my younger daughter Jane (9) requested a balloon and we got one for her.  We held it tight until we got to the car, where Jane asked me to tie it to her wrist.  I tied it but didn't tie the knot tight enough and as I backed away, the string caught the wind and the balloon wrenched itself from her wrist and went up into the sky.

The negative voices in my head spoke right up to tell me that I was inept and a failure--couldn't even tie a stupid balloon to my child's wrist.  Couldn't give my children a celebratory lunch without things going wrong. My face fell.

I think my older daughter (Ana, 12) thought I was seriously upset because she suggested that we go to the nursery by our house.  Jane didn't want to go but I heard Ana promise her M&Ms from her personal stash if she cooperated. "Let's do this for Mom," she whispered.

We went to the nursery and my girls were running around exclaiming over the beauty of the plants.  I was laughing out loud at their joy. We filled up two carts!

We came home and planted and planted and planted.  At some point, Jane went back inside but Ana stayed out with me and planted and planted and planted.  And then she exclaimed, "Mom, thank you for buying these plants! This is so much fun!"  And then she said, "This is the best day!  I am having the best time!"

Nothing fills me with peace and hope and happiness more than working in my garden.  And to have my daughters share that love... I think it might have been the best day of the year so far.

Later, I took a bath and thought about Ana and thought that maybe, planting in the sun for three hours was Ana's gift to me. Quietly, and with the grace of someone much older, she had given of herself to me--given me exactly what I needed most at exactly the time I needed it.

Wow.

Today, I will concentrate on the quiet grace of those I interact with.  I've spent two years complaining that the strangers I come across on Long Island tend to be brusque and rude.  Now I think that maybe the grace of the people here just comes in a different packaging than that of their Southern counterparts.  Yesterday, a woman at the nursery saw me buying a clamatis plant and she said, "What is that?"  I told her.  "That's what I thought," she said and turned away.

Later, I was choosing some impatiens and a shadow fell over me.  "Have you planted that clematis before?" I looked up to find the same Clematis woman.  "I don't think so," I answered."  "You'll want to plant some other kind of plant--like those impatiens --around the roots.  They like to have their roots shaded."  "Oh, thank you!" "Yeah, they like to have their roots shaded." She disappeared.

It wasn't until I went looking for it that I realized that this was a New York moment of grace:  A stranger hunted me down in a busy nursery to tell me how to plant something. I would have missed it if Ana hadn't shown me that these moments of grace come in all sizes and colors and shapes.  Today I will remember to look for them.

(Full disclosure: the clematis in the photo is from Google Images.  It's raining too hard for me to photograph mine!)