Thinking out loud: March 2009

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Yuck..........

I've got a cold. I feel yucky. I hate colds. Especially when it's supposed to be spring outside and time to be out enjoying the sun. Oh, and when it's rainy and cold and nasty and you can't get outside in the sun that's supposed to be there but isn't so you can't let the sun bake the bad germs out of your body! It wasted no time. I felt it starting before I went to bed on Tuesday night. I had to get up and go to the hospital at one in the morning (which I'm sure didn't help any with fighting it off) and sneezed for the next three hours. Woke up yesterday with my head stuffed up and by suppertime, it was in my chest and in my bones.

Yeah, yeah! I know, I know. I'm whining! (Daggum right, I'm whining!! I feel like hell!!).

Jacob left on Sunday to start his big adventure. Picked up Jamie in Asheville and headed for Boulder. They made it to Boulder in good time and with no major ordeals along the way. They're heading out today for Mohab, Utah for a couple of days and then on to San Fransisco. They fly out a week from today for New Zealand. $700.oo, a backpack, and a guide book, best friend from high school, and a return plane ticket in three months! What more could a 21-year-old want?!

Oh, to be 21 again and off on an adventure like that. To be able to see the world with eyes like his, instead of eyes a little more clouded with fear. I am not near as fearful as so many people I know, but I am more fearful than I let on most of the time, and definitely more fearful than my children. I think maybe becoming a parent does that to you. That all of a sudden, once you become a parent, the world suddenly becomes this place where danger is everywhere. You know what I mean? It takes awhile to get that stuff reeled in and tamed down - guess it happens gradually as your kids get older and you worry less about EVERYTHING and get into more specific worries. You're hoping all along that your kids have taken over worrying about a lot of that stuff, so you don't have to, but then again, it kind of always stays there in the backround somewhere, ready to leap out when you least expect it!

Daniel was telling me last week about a friend of his in Wilmington who just returned from a long trek around the country by way of train-hopping and hitch-hiking. Daniel said some of his stories were pretty wild, though I didn't hear any of the wild stories so my imagination took over and created them for me. What I imagined is probably not anything like what the young man really experienced! But, after we got off the phone, I was thinking about when I was young and not afraid of such things. I remember hitch-hiking here and there. Sometimes people creeped me out a little but I was never afraid like I would be now. Too many movies and too many news broadcasts, I guess.

I made Jacob promise me that he would not hitch-hike back to Boulder from San Fransisco when he comes back from New Zealand. I'm going to buy him a plane ticket. And his girlfriend, Tasha, is going to fly out to Boulder to meet him and drive back with him, so I don't have to worry about him making that trip from Boulder by himself. Out of all the things that I can get to worrying about, this was one I could do something about so I asked and he said, "Okay."

I'll take that.

I'm going home to nurse my cold. I love Vicks Vapor Rub.

Peace. Stay safe from all the germs!

Monday, March 16, 2009

You alright, Chickabee?

I have learned so much in the past few weeks. I've learned a lot about myself and I've learned a lot about the people that I love the most - my sons, my brothers and sisters, my closest friends, Scott, and my mom and dad. I have learned, more than anything, how incredibly lucky I am.

But I've learned that it's not just luck but a lot of hard work, too. I think about how much time and energy and love and patience and forgiveness my mom and dad invested into my life and the lives of my brothers and sisters. They worked so hard for us........ it humbles me when I think about it. It touches my very center and stirs such feelings of gratitude and tenderness.

Time is so short. Time with each other is so precious.

My brothers and sisters and I stood in a small group, leaning on one another, trembling with grief, and said good-bye to the man who was the center of us, the leader of our tribe, the head of our team. I would have fallen apart without my brothers and sisters. Our lifetime of love and affection was the glue that held us together. The words we shared with one another, the words we shared with the big community of my father's friends and colleagues, the way we were able to speak about him....... I will never forget those days, hours, minutes.

My sons let me hug them a million times. Over and over again, they opened up their arms and let me step inside. Their love for me and their love for their grandfather held me steady, gave me great strength, reminded me of what a gift they are to me and to the world. Reminded me of how the circle comes around and you begin to understand the love your parents have for you when you have children of your own.

My three closest friends drove such a long way for me. To just be there with me, for me. When I stepped up into the pulpit to speak at my father's funeral, my heart was racing and my spirit ached so intensely, I was afraid I wasn't going to be able to go on. There were so many people there. I looked out and saw Bobbi and Steve there, smiling, sending me the courage to continue - and so I did. The time I spent with Cindy the following evening helped me to know that everything was going to be okay - that despite this great big huge hole that's happened in my life, some things will always be the same. That continuing on in life - as we have to do!! - is okay. Thank you, my friends.

Scott never wavered. Never backed away from the sadness. Never questioned. Just loved. Loved me, loved my mom, loved my brothers and sisters, my sister-in-laws. It was amazing to see. He just opened up his heart; offered his shoulder, his smile, his hand. I've never been loved like that before. I watched him give so much, without holding anything back. Even now, I am touched by the very memory of it. I will hold on to that forever.

And my mom....... my mom showed such grace and beauty. There is no way to write it into a blog or anywhere else - but it is forever written on my heart and the hearts of my brothers and sisters, my kids, my nieces and nephews - all of us who were there. When we were overwhelmed by the immensity of our loss, she gave us grace, peace, and direction. I would like to have even a small part of that grace she has.

When I was still living in Morganton, whenever I was sad or blue or sick or struggling, my friend Bobbi would call me up to check on me. She'd always say, "You alright, Chickabee?".

I wanted you to know that I'm alright. Full. Sad. Tender. Happy. Humbled. Grateful. Full of love.

Peace all.

Friday, March 6, 2009

What a smile!!

This is my dad and his beautiful smile.

Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)

Song Lyrics of the Week (or maybe the day)

I've been walking down a solitary road.

Looking for some open door, some comfort from this cold.

And I have been afraid I'd lose my hope

But now I know hope will survive.

I've been searching for a heart that is like mine.

A little taste of peacefulness is all I'd hope to find.

So I looked into the eyes of my child

And when he smiled, I could see it shine.

I do believe the dawn will follow the night fall

And I will not have to walk this road alone.

In the voices of my friends, I hear a light call

And the sweetness of that sound will lead me home.

Love is waiting there for me, it's in the pictures on my wall.

I hear it in my grandpa's clock ticking down my hall.

It's underneath the quilt my grammy sewed

And the sweet songs that I've know since I was a child.

I do believe that joy will come to find me.

And I'll know again how that pleasure feels.

And the scars that I bear are here to remind me

That I may love and lose but I will heal.

-----yours truly, Hope Will Survive

Gratitude Journal (a New Year's Resolution)

I am grateful for the many times that I have survived depression.
I am grateful for the memories I have of Morganton and our house there - the house where Jacob and Daniel and I grew up, and the many great times I had in that lovely space.
I am grateful for the red maple leaves blazing in my front yard and the few short weeks I have left to say, "Oh! look at that!" when I step out the front door.
I am grateful that I have learned to be alone and at peace with my own company.
I am grateful for the book of Job. One cannot feel sorry for one's self for very long whilst reading Job. And for that I am quite grateful, as I'm feeling sorry for myself today.
I am grateful for the opportunity I had to play music with Scott and Ken and Mary. Our group was a wonderful thing.
I am grateful for patience.
I am grateful for my nephew Matt and for the man he became in his recovery. I am grateful for the relationship that we've developed and the love that we share.
I am grateful for the sound of my father's voice - the way it echoes still.
I am grateful for dreams of the mountains.
I am grateful that I knew a part of Scott that was good and true before all the other stuff happened. It gives me the place to start forgiving and letting go.
I am grateful for my friends Jon, Lorna, and Bruce.
I am grateful for the week I had to sit by the ocean and listen to that ancient, pounding sound.
I am grateful for friendships that span miles and years.
I am grateful for giggling! You should hear my sisters and my little brother and my sons and me - we all giggle the same!
I am grateful for love that came later in life, even though it would not stay here with me and even though it broke my heart. I am still grateful that I knew it and it knew me.
I am grateful for my music and the way it saves me.
I am grateful for tears.
I am grateful for the voices of my sisters. They sound so much like my own, it surprises me everytime!
I am grateful for the way my kids hug me - with love and intention, warmth and honesty.
I am grateful for the beautiful, warm day yesterday (2/8/09) and the opportunity to sit out in the sun with my dad.
I am constantly touched and amazed and humbled by the courage of others. Thank you for that. Thank you to the young man who waited on our table down in Chapel Hill. Your courage inspires my own!

Good Music

If you haven't heard these albums, have a listen. You'll be glad you did:

Jon Zachary, Turn on a Point ("The Ballad of the Piper Cub" is indeed a very very fine song and an artist rendering on forgiveness. Worth listening to about a thousand times or more.)

Mary Gordon Hall, Wine Glasses and Wooden Spoons (with Christmas coming, listen to "Babe Alone", incredibly beautiful song)

Danny Ellis, 800 Voices (listen to "800 Voices" or "Tommy Bonner" first and read the liner notes, this is powerful music and will heal you way down inside if you open yourself up and let it)

Gillian Welch and Dave Rawlings, The Harrow & The Harvest ("Hard Times" is my current favorite song!)

Patty Griffin, Children Passing Through ("Up to the Mountain" is a song that I play and belt out when I think that I can't go on anymore.)

I could go on for days!!

My thoughts on finding pathways to peace

I have found that lavender candles or vanilla candles help. I light them when the sun goes down and I blow them out when I go to bed. Especially in the dark of the winter, that soft light soothes me and helps me feel centered. The vanilla reminds me of my grandmother's house when I was a little girl and the cookies, cakes, or pies she would bake when we came to visit. Lavender reminds me of the fields of summer and sitting on the edge of Linville Gorge watching the sun set. I never smelled lavender there but every time I smell it, I think of summer and the Gorge and the many days in my nineteenth, twentieth and twenty-first years that I spent there.

It is often easy to set aside a hurt or an offense or a wrong doing that someone throws my way, intentionally or not. Most of us, I think, can set things aside, take a deep breath, control our tempers. The harder part is to leave it aside! To not allow ourselves to take it back up again and carry it around like some sort of blazing badge upon our chests. Letting go means leaving it behind. That's a hard task sometimes. I have found that taking things back up again or carrying them on and on and on significantly diminishes my peace potential. So how do I keep from picking things back up again? Injecting either humor or music into situations of conflict helps me a lot. i try to talk things out with someone I trust and I try to make it funny if I can. I love to tell a story and the funnier the better. I try to make big hurts into little hurts by breaking them up with humor. I also will send a little sound clip in most all the time. I have a constant, unending, soundtrack playing in my head. I have the remote to that soundtrack and I can switch stations whenever I want. There are particular songs that I play in my head that help me feel peaceful or calm or loving or generous or sensitive or, on the flip side, angry, combative, vengeful. You know what I mean? You have these too? Most of us do, I think. I use that music in my head. When I am tempted to fight, I flip a switch and turn on some internal music that either expresses that anger for me (here's an example - "No Bad News" by Patty Griffin. Awesome song. I turn that song up loud in my car on really really bad days when I feel like I might explode - and I explode into that song and wail it out!! and am much the better for it - without doing anybody harm!! 'cept maybe my poor ear drums!) or soothes that anger down (here's another example - "One Love" by Bob Marley, or from Playing for Change. "Let's get together and feel alright" or "Imagine" by John Lennon. "Imagine all the people living life in peace"). It might sound crazy. It might sound meaningless to you. But it works for me. Try it. Turn those songs on in your head and see what happens. If you don't have the right one, go looking for it. It's a powerful tool.

Gratitude has saved my life.

Service has saved my life. I wish that the Feds would give everybody a tax break for doing service work. Like you do some service work, you get a receipt from wherever or whomever, and you attach it to your income tax return and you get a 2% tax deduction or something like that. Plant trees around a local park, build trails on the Appalachian Trail, serve mashed potatoes at a local soup kitchen or bag groceries at a local food bank, write letters to an orphan in Somalia, volunteer to read to a kindergarten class, mow your elderly neighbors' lawn, clean cages for the Humane Society. There's a lot out there to be done. Big and small. Might be life changing. May just be something to do on a rainy Saturday afternoon. But helping others helps me. Helping others takes me out of my little solitary world and opens me up to the blessings that I have and puts my world into perspective.

Prayer is powerful. And it works. When I moved to the Eastern Shore in 2006, I rented this great big old farmhouse. It was beautiful and I loved it there. But the nights could be painfully long. The house made so many sounds and popped and creaked and groaned in the wind. I was sometimes quite spooked. And my peace seemed to run away and hide under the bed. Sleep was elusive. I found there were nights that I could not remember the 23rd Psalm, though I had learned it by heart when I was just a little thing. Sometimes I would simply say, "The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want." Period. That was it. That's all my mind would let me remember. And so that became a mantra and a prayer and I would repeat it over and over. And peace would come stealin' over me, slowly, gently. And I would feel my heart slow down. And the popping and creaking and groaning of the house would fade into an ambient sound that did not startle me. And I would float on that prayer into a peaceful state where thoughts came clearly and my voice, the voice of my heart, would talk directly to my God. And my God would listen. I have to work at finding that place. It does not come easily to me. But I work at it and when I find that place of stillness, I find that talking to my God is as easy as talking to my own mother or my closest friend. And my prayers are a conversation that is left unended, to be continued. The peace that I find when I pray is a peace that stays with me as long as I am willing to acknowledge its presence. Because it is always there. I just only need to remember.

A dog, a cat, a horse, a cow, a bird. Study after study has shown what great benefit there is in having a pet: lower blood pressure, less pain, less chronic disease, higher self-esteem, lower rates of depression. I am a believer. I know it to be true in my own life and in my own house. Sitting quietly, listening to a book on tape, knitting or not knitting, with my dog curled up next to me, leaning against my legs. My vital signs stabilize and then mellow, my muscles relax, my heartaches ease, and everything feels alright. Just touching her soft furry head and listening to her sigh. Wow. What a simple thing.