Monday, December 11, 2017

Whispering to Remember - Christmas 2017

Hope - Peace - Joy - Love - The Four Candles of Advent

It's Christmas 2017.
One entire year of the Trump Administration.

Usually reflecting on the year, no matter how hard, is a joy...
we have each other...
we will get through.

During the four weeks of Advent, one of my favorite traditions is the Advent Wreath.
We have four candles, three purple and one pink, set in a circle.
We get to light one each that by the time Christmas comes around,
there is serious light in the darkness...
four bright candles...shining triumphantly.
Holding open the spot...creating space for a baby...and a miracle...and family.

I was pregnant at Christmas time twenty five years ago.
All these years later, I cherish that extra special time of singing and preparing for two babies during that Advent in 1992,
not just one.

But this year is different.

I feel the weight of a year's worth of lies.
A year's worth of looking the other way.
A year's worth of pretending everything is ok.

I feel the crushing crashing of dreams of so many Americans withering on the vine...
this week it is grad students due to the tax bill that gives massive deductions to corporations over its citizens...
months ago, it was those with disabilities...
those with medical conditions...
...people of color...
...the LGBTQ community...
...or immigrants...
...or refugees...
...or children.

A year ago, I could feel an entire nation of children's eyes watching the adults in the room
make excuses...
it doesn't matter that she's never been in a public school classroom...
or that he derides the Environmental Protection Agency...
or that he flies private planes all over the United States at our expense...
lower your eyes...
pretend you don't see.

Are our children any better twelve months later?
Sadly, no.

They've seen open racism and half-hearted excuses.

They've witnessed their President UNwelcome entire nations of people.

The've had to accept a new normal and the sickening taunts of a president...
corruption and people so achingly out-in-the-open greedy that it insults those that work to teach integrity and honesty.
They've witnessed the open disregard for suffering people in Puerto Rico...
the pointed, barbed insults to people hidden in the shadows working for our safety...
the FBI, the CIA...
and our press...
daily derided...
with blatant untruths...
and intentional misinformation.


This Christmas I want to whisper who we are.I want to remind each of us what it means to be American.

Like the Advent candles, first I offer HOPE.We are better than this.
Millions resist openly.
Millions more resist in the smallest of ways.
Two-thirds of us...the majority of us say NO.

Light the candle of hope...and see how it breaks the darkness.
The second offering is LOVE.
Love is opening the circle wider...building a longer table...
love is recognizing fear and still pushing up your sleeves to do the work.
Love is the answer...the only response to racism and sexism.
Love is knowing that all humans are equal and working against injustice...
it's seeing yourself in the stranger.
It is living in the present moment.
What can I do right now?
and then taking the first step to begin.

Choose love and you change the trajectory.

Ours is not a small God...the endless, timeless beauty of the universe whispers the grandeur of Higher Love.
Seize it.
Breathe it in.
It is yours everyday for the taking...
grace in the ordinary.

Can you hear the murmurings??

The third offering is JOY.
With so much hatred, corruption and can be hard to find...but it is there.
There, in the ironic plot twist of a transgender women winning the seat away from someone who bragged that he was "Chief Homophobe" in Virginia.
In the way the sun still sets...the clouds still swirl across the sky...
the perfect simplicity of a cup of tea...or an act of kindness...a baby's laugh...a toddler's wonder...
rain on a rooftop...clothes fresh from a dryer...firefighters who work to save houses...and teachers who read out loud to students stories that bind us together.
Pick up a rock.
Try to watch the dance of a snowflake.
Gather friends together and cherish their company.
Walk your dog.
Hug your kid.


The last offering is PEACE.This seems like a wish.
A fantasy.
Something out of reach.
But tonight I listened to a mother who had to bury her first grader after he was murdered at his elementary school in Newtown live her life with forgiveness at its core.
Five years after every mother's worst heartbreak, a woman named Scarlett showed me the way.
Forgiveness carries peace on its wings.
Scarlett mentioned:
Nurturing, Healing Love.
She wants every human to have that and recognizes that her child's killer was unable to
either receive or give love.

One year of Trump's despicable behavior...his devastating cruelty...his duplicitous companions that tolerate the tarnishing of all that is sacred about our country...
one entire year.

Advent offers light in the darkness.
My whisper blows it forward...
to you...
to another you...and another you...
as Pope Francis said in his TED Talk:
"Hope begins with you and then another you and another you
until it becomes US.
When there is an us, there is a Revolution of Tenderness."

I'm ready for the Revolution.

I know you are too...
let us begin.
Light the candle.
Notice the warmth.
Offer it to others.
Remember the way home.
Be honest.
Work hard.

We are better than this.
Demand it.

Tuesday, August 22, 2017


For a few months I'd been hearing about the eclipse that was coming to North America...
it was a rare full solar eclipse within driving distance from my house.

It would be a schlep.
A definite road trip.
School would have started.
Life would be interrupted.
Plenty of reasons to not make the effort...
but it was like a tiny little magnet was tucked into my soul...and the pull was the shadow of the moon.

I knew it was a must.

I've gotten good at listening to this inner whisper of mine...and it doesn't disappoint.
It always leads me to some moment that was exactly what my heart needed.

Turns out today, my heart needed totality.

Every last drop.
ALL of it.

Yes, that's exactly what my heart needed.

I found a nursery and wedding venue that was mostly a lovingly tended herb garden that was willing to open their place to people to camp there.
It was called Thyme Garden.

The universe had fun with words today, trust me.

In rural the coastal mountain range, is a little spot called Alsea.
Located in a valley is the Thyme Garden.

I had no recommendations from Trip good friend who pointed the way...just an email that was delightful and inviting and open hearted...
my kind of people.

The Thyme a gift of time...and beauty...and color...and grace.

I made my deposit and five of us made our way up to watch the solar eclipse in their garden.

As we were driving, we left our comfort of continuous cell service...
instant information...24 hour shopping.

We left behind a bustling, busy life and plopped into a garden that was off the grid.
With people who string white fairy lights into trees and on tables...who decorate with flowers...and cook with herbs...people who love the land they live on and who want nothing more than to share it with others.

This open hearted warmth...seems like some sort of illusion, but it is the farthest thing from it.

In fact, for those twenty four hours, it felt exactly the way we are all supposed to live.

Rolfe, the visionary behind the Thyme Garden, enthusiastically shared the story of his place and the people behind it. He proudly offered up the home-cooked food that was at once the comfort of home and taste of the was totality...
earth's bounty lovingly provided...
in just the right moment.

About 60 people showed up at the Thyme Garden.
Families, some with babies, other who were single, young couples and old bodied and others who needed didn't matter...
it was totality.

Rolfe, after the litany of delicious treats paused and talked for a moment about the eclipse and the plans around it...and then he looked up and said,
"It's kind of amazing that we are all here for just 57 seconds of totality...
the moon perfectly covering the sun...
a shadow for such a short time...
but I think it's really great."

We all nodded...
it was already pretty great...
a simple shangri-la that reminded us all of the important things:
the gifts of family, friendship, beauty, harmony with nature, and always the food.

The morning dawned blue and still...
a moment in time that was sparkling with expectation.

We all ventured out from our tents with dew on our shoes and huddled together with coffee and the famous local cinnamon rolls.

After our coffee and cinnamon roll, we got ready for nature's show...we joked about our worries about missing much of a deal could it really be...
were we crazy for driving all this way for 57 seconds?

Short answer: no.

Totality is exactly what it says.
100% of the sun is covered by the moon...
miraculously, the sun is 400 times bigger than our moon AND the sun just happens to be 400 times the distance from the moon...they perfectly align when the tilt of the moon is just so...and a million incredible configurations work like cogs in a clock to create the perception of the moon slowly, slowly moving across the surface of the sun to slide in place and cover it...totally.

In those final seconds before it is covered up, the earth is an unusual bluish hue, it's colder - enough to see the frost of your breath in August - and it looks like the sun is putting up a keeps shining a bright red thin thread until it finally lets go...
into totality.

When that happened...the campers around us cheered.
We joined in.
It was joyous in a mesmerizing way...and then for 57 seconds we could see the corona...
the atmosphere of the sun that is hidden from us earthly mortals every other moment.

For 57 seconds we sat in marvel...awe...wonder...stunned by the beauty and the cosmic perfection of this moment...I found myself crying...looking at my family in their bluish tint...wanting to crystallize the fleeting...and knowing I never could.

The closest thing to understand the ethereal beauty of the moon's shadow is trying to describe a rainbow...almost everyone has seen one...and we know that photos rarely capture the truth of something as magical as a rainbow but still we try...

there was no capturing the corona...
words certainly can't contain it...
my mind's eye holds it clearly and that's why I'm writing so carefully now...

somehow I want to remember the gift of knowing that for 57 seconds it all made sense...
what mattered was that perfect moment,
shared with people you love...
and the rest of the world who took the time to step into the shadow as well.

Totality makes sense in a deep, soulful way.
We are all connected in such a beautiful, sacred, holy way...and with totality, you catch that glimpse.

For tonight, I am grateful for that whisper that told me to go...
for the joyous, gracious hospitality of the Thyme Garden...
and for the celestial magic that is totality.

Friday, June 9, 2017

The Guy on the Street

Yesterday was a busy day...
for those of you who are moms, you know what the end of the school year is like.

If you're a teacher, too,  well then, these days of May and early June feel like the end of a 
Fourth of July show.
One after another, bigger and brighter, blasting higher and louder, the days pass by...building and building to the crazy feeling of "OK, that's enough now."

"When will it stop?"

And suddenly it gets quiet.

Lunches aren't being made.
Homework isn't being discussed.
Obligations melt away.

Beautiful summer.

Today, was the last day of high school for Patrick and I volunteered to organize and put on the 
Senior Lunch.

I had done it last year and enjoyed seeing these smart, thoughtful teens/adults on the verge of life.
I loved the buzz of both nostalgia and excitement.

So, I ordered the deli sandwiches, filled up the cooler with ice, gather the cookies and grapes and chips and some minimal decorations and got ready.

It was raining in the morning...the scent was lovely...but the vibe was not picnicky.
Oh well.

The message from the school: the picnic must go on.
Rain or shine.

So, I do what I'm super good at...
Long ago, someone gave me this tip and it has really helped:

Act as if, then you will be.

For a new teacher, a new mommy, just whenever you have no clue...
act as if you do.
Soon enough, you will morph into that thing you were hoping to be.

Ready. Go.
Last Day of School Picnic is ON.

The deli sandwiches were piled high.
The grapes, washed and ready.
Chips galore.
Water bottles + grad balloons + random frisbee  = legit picnic.

The lunch goes easily and the grateful teens eat their fill and depart 
to practice for the graduation ceremony.

What was left was plenty of leftover picnic.

I stared at it and was struck by the gift of food.
The gift of community...
and belonging.

The land of plenty.
So obvious...and so much left over.

I consoled myself with the leftovers thinking I could bring it back to school and the teachers could use it the next day when everyone would be in the post-graduation slump.

Packed up the van and headed out.

I wanted to stop at Starbucks on my way to the high school to get some gift cards.

I walked down the street...rushing because of the left overs...needing to get going...when I hear a request coming near my feet.

I look down and there is a man in his 20's or 30's...
dirty, big bushy hair, slumped shoulders.

Looking up.

He asks, "Do you think you could buy me a lunch?"
[I'd like to stop right here and say that never has someone asked me that. They've asked if I had any extra money...or if I could help them out. But, never has someone asked for a lunch.]

Those syllables and sounds of one human to another instead of irritating me, work their way through my ear, pierce my heart and into a brain that stops my forward movement and shakes me awake.

This guy needs a lunch??

In that movie, Inside Out, I imagine my emotions discussing in real time my is a split second mash up of Disgust, trying to shout down Joy...Sadness wrestling with Anger...and an 
Emergency Fire Alarm going off in there.


I am frozen and I smile so big.

"You need a lunch? Really?"

I look him in the eyes and smile and keep smiling.
I tell him that he is not going to believe this but I just finished up providing a lunch to a bunch of graduating seniors and I have plenty of lunch just for him.

I ask him to walk just a few cars down the street and I open the door to my van and show him a platter of sandwiches just waiting for him...and then he shyly says,
"I have some friends."

"You do??"
"Would they want some lunch too?"

He nods...
and I hand him the whole platter.
I put a bunch of grapes in a bag...some chips and ice cold waters...
and he just can't believe it.

Neither can I.

Or maybe I can.

It feels so right.
So cosmically perfect that I take a deep breath as I watch him walk away.

Then I spy the cookies - hidden beneath some towels.

He needs some cookies doesn't he?

I quick close up my van and begin jogging toward the guy holding a platter shuffling down the street like a waiter who's been ambushed...big bushy hair, dirty jacket, untied shoes.

I catch up to him with my cookies and it's my turn to be shy.

"Would you want some cookies?"

His hands, already too full, magically maneuver different items to create a spot just for cookies.

It was then that I ask him his name.

He smiles, "Ben." 
He offers it like the gift it is.

He smiles again when I tell him my name and for a moment life makes sense.

The weird obstacle course of my days somehow feels in perfect alignment.

How stunning to have too much food.
How understandable to have too little.
How blessed to cross paths in just that moment.

Unloading the food and filling up my heart...
it wasn't really a fair swap.

But the grace goes both ways.
Today, I'm grateful to bushy-haired Ben...who went from stranger to secret friend 
in less than five minutes.

Grateful for too much food that found its way into the hands of people who have far too little.
Grateful for the hopeful whisper that started it all.
Grateful for the heart that could hear it.

Think I'll sign up to do that Senior Lunch next year.
Maybe I'll meet Ben again.

Until then, happy summer.
Cue the fireworks.

Thursday, April 6, 2017

Down The Rabbit Hole of Gratitude

Our world is messed up.
Seriously messed up.

We have a president that openly lies...few call him on it.
So truth becomes "fake news".
Down is up.

Refugees are shut out.
Immigrants pushed to the shadows.

Public schools are on notice...maybe they don't need the money that they have...maybe they can donate to a private school in the name of "choice"...another false narrative.
There's no choice when they won't let you in...
except for maybe Historically Black Colleges - touted as the originators of choice by the woman running the Department of Education - who never worked in a public school.

The Environmental Protection Agency...maybe that should be optional.
Maybe not everybody is equal.
Freedom is your documents as you exit your domestic flight.

Let's watch Republicans change 230 years of precedent when it comes to the Supreme Court...
like Veruca Salt, THEY WANT IT NOW, DADDY!

Those Trump-Russia ties are only in your imagination.
Along with climate change.

And what about the immigrants...taken from schools and courthouses, placed in detention centers...
where and for how long?
No one can answer.
No one knows.

It is disgraceful.

As you can see...the world is upside down.

Deep breathing, long walks, fervent prayers aside what is a person to do?

Since books are my happy place, I hunkered down into The Book of Joy - a conversation between the Dalai Lama and Archbishop Desmond Tutu.

It became the salve of my heart.
My haven.
Something I carried with me wherever I went.

I've lived a grateful focused life since I began the practice of writing down
5 things as a project for 2003.

I have many many journals filled with those moments of gratitude.

It's a part of the way I see the world now.
Embedded into almost every interaction with others, every small moment with my kids, every ordinary chore like washing dishes or even washing my hands.

I water, soap, the ability to squish my hands together under the running water, the gift of clean hands to prepare a meal...and away I go. Finished with my chore and filled up with gratitude.

It's a life changing vantage point.


So, reading The Book of Joy, I nodded knowingly when both the Dalai Lama and Desmond Tutu kept circling back to the importance of gratitude.

I got this.
This is something I am good at...
Gratefulness 101 = A+

Only those two don't teach the beginner course on gratitude...they move it deeper...they nudge you further down the road.

You can get your PhD in it if you hang out with those guys long enough.

Like anyone really great in their field, both of these men offer their wisdom freely.
They share.
They work to get the word out.

No price of admission.

If you read The Book of Joy to the end, you will get to their "Joy Practices".

Mental Immunity
Morning Intention Setting
Overcoming Obstacles to Joy
Cultivating the Eight Pillars of joy
Rejoicing in your Day
Relationship and Community - The Greatest Joy

It was here where I tumbled down the Rabbit Hole of Gratitude.

Under Humility - A Lojong Practice - I found what my heart needed that day...
and it has helped in this upside down world every day since.

The book asks you to:
"Reflect on all the people who are responsible for your life."

At first, I was simplistic...thought of my mom and dad and moved on...
to this:

"Think of your parents who gave you life, your teachers who taught you, the people who grew your food and who made your clothes, the countless others who are responsible for your having the life that you have each and every day. Now think of all those who discovered and created all of the things we take for granted, the housing, the crops, and the medicines that keep you alive. 
Think of all the ancestors, who had to live and survive, so that you could be born, who braved enormous hardship so that you could have the life that you do. 
Now think of the family and friends who give your life meaning."

That one paragraph stopped me cold.

In all of the years that I have been keeping a Grateful Journal, did I ever stop and thank the people who came before me?
Or the inventors, the designers, the researchers, the creative artists who have influenced my life?

Not really.

If you stop and try to thank all of these people it can be a rabbit hole of amazing.

It goes like this...step into a public restroom.

Who came up with the idea and effort and work to place this restroom here?
Who actually dug the pipes?
Who invented the pipes?
Who mined the copper?
Where did that come from?
Who designed and created the place that collects the water that flows through these pipes?
Who designed the tile on the floor?
Who made the tile?
Shipped it?
Laid it?
Who designed the sink?
The faucet?
The paper towel dispenser?
The toilet paper??
(thank you!)
The blow dryer hand dryer?
The soap?
Who created the first window?
What about the lights?
The actual structure of the building?
Who were the people who worked on my behalf to build it?
Who funded it?
Was it a city?
Who founded the city?

On and on it goes...

Literally, you can get lost in the gratefulness.

This "humility" as the Dalai Lama and Desmond Tutu describe it is mind blowing.

In those moments of consideration,
you see the interconnectedness of our world...
you see the beauty of hard work, creativity, persistence, boldness,
ordinary mankind finding a way to make things better.

If you have gotten down in the rabbit hole with me,
you can imagine what it feels like when you enter a grocery store.
Lately, tears have sprung to my eyes as I stop to look at the produce and consider the many hundreds or thousands of people who have been working so hard on farms, in food production, in food companies, in advertising and grocery stores just to bring me this food.

How about a coffee store?
A library?
A road?
A sidewalk?
A park?
A building?
A garden?

Trying to come up out of the rabbit hole...and into daily life gets harder and harder.
It's like Alice says when looking through the looking glass:

"Well, now that we have seen each other," said the unicorn,
"if you'll believe in me, I'll believe in you."
-- Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking-Glass, And What Alice Found There

I've seen a unicorn.

Or have I?

Like Einstein notices...each of us gets to choose:
either everything is a miracle or nothing is.

Today, I choose miracle.
Ordinary miracle.
Ordinary holiness.

So many gifts freely available down that rabbit hole.
Try it.
Let me know what you see.

Thursday, February 9, 2017

Grace Bats Last

I didn't mean to do it.
I was rushing - trying to get my kids to school - calculating the opportunity cost of three minutes , maybe it would be two, of putting on my shoes.

No time.

I couldn't afford another tardy.
I broke my ankle last August and the sheer obstacle course of living my life without bearing weight on one of my legs for eight weeks made for quite a few tardies in my son's life.

So, on this rainy day, I walked barefoot to my car.

Dropped the kids off successfully.
Went to get out of my car and my feet landed in a very small puddle.

It was a foot baptism.

It brought me to the moment.
Took me out of my to-do list...
my oh-my-gosh-our-world-has-gone-nuts list...
my distracted movement through my days...
to a tiny puddle.

It felt so good that a thought popped into my mind:
take Buddy for a walk, barefoot.

I did just that.

Giggling at the craziness.
Enjoying the light-heartedness.
Relishing my ankle's new found strength...

I baptized myself.

It was just what my heart needed.

I want you know something very important:
YOU and YOU alone know your path to healing.

Even if its weird, or makes no sense, or seems impossible like walking the Pacific Crest Trail did for Cheryl Strayed, you know it.

So I walked and felt the bumpy earth, the soft grass, the twigs and leaves still left on the ground.

I walked and thought of all the many people who can't walk, who are in a hospital fighting for their life, in a prison locked away, in a grief stupor too deep to feel anything...and felt the breath of grace.

As I walked, I reminded myself of my warm shower, my cozy clothes, my very happy stripe-y umbrella and again thought of the blessings I often do not notice.

This past week-end, dear friends of mine celebrated their eight day old son's Bris.
They called it Superbowl Bris Day.

What's a Bris?
It is a celebration of life - an ancient faith-filled tradition for people of the Jewish faith.
At the Bris, the family reveals the Hebrew name they have given their son.

Etan's Hebrew name is Elie Shimon.
He is named after two incredible heroes of the Jewish faith that passed away while his mother was pregnant with him.

one a Nobel prize winning author and Holocaust survivor, 
the other an Israeli politician that was both the President and the Prime Minister...
and peace-maker.

Watching Etan's family welcome him in such a mindful, intentional way was humbling and healing.
Having the opportunity to read these words at his Bris is a gift I hold very close to my heart:

"You are your parents' dream realized, their hopes fulfilled.
You are the latest and best chapter in the unfolding lives of your family.

You are a bridge over which we, who welcome you, can gaze from this day into future days, 
from our generation into yours.
You are the newest link in the endless chain of our shared history."

Etan's parents shared a powerful quote of Elie Wiesel's:
"Mankind must remember that peace is not God's gift to us,
peace is our gift that we give to each other."


Like the rain, at some moments it is ever-present and at other times it can feel far off.

It is within our grasp.
We must only stop and stare with wonder and joy at the gifts showered upon us every single day.

So, for today...I'm grateful for the rain.
For my dog.
For being able to be barefoot and steady...
for friendship and faith...
blessings and grace.

Mostly, I'm grateful for love.
It is sovereign here.

Friday, January 27, 2017

Dear Old World...

Dear Old World,
You're such a contradiction...roses, tea time, hot water, friendship, kindness, love...
Lies, undrinkable water, rubber bullets, tyranny, corruption, disregard...
How can it be reconciled?
What does a person do?


Just a couple of weeks ago, my 24 year old son was lamenting our world and then asked,
"I need to find some uplifting fiction."

Since we were talking on the phone, I just decided to Google it right then and there...
the number one book on the list:
Anne of Green Gables.

I laughed out loud.

I'd been reading this book every night for a few months with my younger daughter, 10 year old Caroline...and, indeed, I found it to be my very favorite part of my day.
It was a respite.
A haven.

Sweet Anne just melted my heart every time.

First off, you need to know that Anne is an orphan who lands at a house in the darling town of Avonlea on Prince Edward Island as a mistake. An adult brother and sister who live on a farm and are both unmarried had put in that they wanted a young orphan boy to help with chores on the farm...
But when Matthew comes to the train station to pick up the orphan boy he is surprised to find a little girl of about eleven years old.

Matthew is shocked to find this young girl...and shocked more when the train official says, "I asked her to go into the ladies' waiting room, but she informed me gravely that she preferred to stay outside. "There was more scope for imagination," she said."

Right there on p. 15 we meet Anne and we find out an important clue into her heart.
Imagination matters.

It had been a long time since my imagination was summoned, but Anne called to it like some sort of Emergency Broadcast System and it found its way back home.

Turns out that Anne's imagination was her defense against a difficult world. 

When Matthew meets Anne she immediately showers him with all of her thoughts.
She shares her plans if he had not come, she shares about her carpet bag and she shares this tidbit:

"Oh it seems so wonderful that I am going to live with you and belong to you.
I've never belonged to anybody - not really."

That sentence caught in my throat as I said it out loud.

I have had the privilege of belonging for my entire life.
So many many children ache for it.
I'm crushed to consider Anne's plight...even if for a moment.

Anne is so full of life and light that her conversation with Matthew is a comfort to all of us. She points out the beauty of cherry blossoms. The fun of not knowing and asking questions, the joy of having a companion to notice things with...she continues:
"Isn't it splendid to think of all the things there are to find out about? 
It just makes me feel glad to be alive - it's such an interesting world."

She is on the look out for kindred spirits...and she finds them, plenty of them, in some of the most unlikely people, including a crotchety old woman and darling, shy Matthew.

Always be on the look out for a kindred spirit...they are all around. 

Anne makes plenty of mistakes...
which lead to this gem:

She is stubborn, super smart, over dramatic and hilarious.

She's reflective, which in turn helped Caroline and me to consider this:
"What a splendid day! said Anne drawing a long breath, "I pity the people who aren't born yet for missing it.
They may have good days, of course, but they can never have this one."

Never have I pitied those who haven't been born for the loss they have endured for not living my wonderful day...but after that, I started to consider what amazing days came before my life and how much I may have missed...more than that, I stopped to gratefully cherish this day right now...
it will never come again...
those babies are missing it...
and it's pretty incredible.

But, it was the very last chapter, The Bend in the Road, that sealed my Anne Adoration.

Anne has won a scholarship to college. This is a very prestigious prize since at the time very few women go to college.
But, as life does, hard things happened.
Precious Matthew, her biggest fan and best encourager, passes away in a shocking way.
Marilla, Anne's adoptive mother and Matthew's sister, is ailing and looks to be unable to care for Green Gables. Marilla, seeing no other solution, puts Green Gables up for sale.

Anne will have none of that.

She changes her plans and works to find a way to work as a teacher nearby.
She will stay at Green Gables with Marilla.

"I shall give my life here my best, and I believe it will give its best to me in return.
When I left Queen's my future seemed to stretch out before me like a straight road.
I thought I could see along it for many a milestone.
Now there's a bend in it.
I don't know what lies around the bend, but I'm going to believe that the best does.
It has a fascination of its own, that bend, Marilla.
I wonder how the road beyond it goes - what there is of green glory and soft, checkered light and shadows - what new landscapes - what new beauties - what curves and hills and valleys farther on...

...Anne's horizons had closed in since the night she had sat there after coming home from Queen's but if the path set before her feet was to be narrow she knew that flowers of quiet happiness would blossom along it. The joys of sincere work and worthy aspiration and congenial friendship were to be hers; nothing could rob her of her birthright of fancy or her ideal world of dreams."

Anne's ability to handle the bend in the road with her one-of-a-kind grace and graciousness were just the lift up my heart needed.

Watching her think through the options and adjust so nimbly was a great reminder.
We are capable of so much goodness.
So much kindness.
So much belonging. this world where so much difficulty lies, what books have soothed your soul?
Spoken to your spirit?
Nourished the aching parts?

For Caroline and me, it's been sweet Anne.
With an "e".

Enjoying the pearls in our days.
How about you?

Thursday, January 5, 2017

My One Word for 2017...What's Yours?

Happy New Year!

It's 2017...which makes Y2K look kind of cute.
Remember all that craziness?
For those of you too young to remember, our computers weren't going to be able to handle moving from 1999 to 2000...we needed Y2K kits and preparation.

Now, 17 years later, we have different craziness.
Other worries.

And a brand new deck of 365 beautiful days.
Aren't we lucky?

Right this minute, think of the many people who wish for just one more day...
and you have a red carpet of days rolled out just for you.


There's this thing going around Twitter asking you to choose a word for the New Year.
#One Word2017

This word is to serve as a guide, a motivator, a touchstone...a rudder for the year.

As a lover of words...this is a nearly impossible task.
Last year, I skipped the hype...too overwhelmed at the thought.

But, this year, my word found me.

Remember Naomi Shihab Nye?
If not, read this blog post about this lovely soul right here.

In preparing to meet Naomi, I listened to a beautiful interview with her on a podcast called On Being.
In it, she reveals a beautiful interaction with a student.

Naomi had traveled to Japan for a poetry-teaching trip.
Before every class, on every chalkboard, she would write something on the board up in the corner:
“You are living in a poem.”
She wrote this as a subliminal message.
She wouldn't spend time discussing it...she had other more important things to share...
like poems or poets or observations or ways to seamlessly include poetry in your life.

But she wanted students to consider it.

In the On Being episode, Naomi thinks out loud:

"When you think, 
when you're in a very quiet place, 
when you're remembering,
when you're savoring an image, 
when you're allowing your mind to calmly leap from one thought to another, 
that's a poem.
That's what a poem does."

After her trip, Naomi received a letter from one of the students in Yokohama, Japan.
Reflecting on Naomi's visit, the student gifts her with this observation:

"Here in Japan, we have a concept called Yutori.
It is spaciousness.
It's a kind of living with spaciousness.

For example, it is leaving early enough to get somewhere so that you know you are going to arrive early, so when you get there,
you have time to look around...

...and after you read a poem, 
Yutori is...
just knowing you can hold it,
you can be in that space of the poem
and it can hold you in that space...

and you don't have to explain it,
you don't have to paraphrase it,
you just hold it...

...and it allows you to see differently."

And, BAM.
In that minute, Yutori captured me.
Hypnotized me.
Like a song that gets stuck in your head, Yutori would not get out.

Maybe it's because my life is busy...
and spaciousness doesn't seem like a very common part of my life.
Maybe it's because I often feel distracted when I want to be present.

Maybe it's the world I live in...
constant constraints...
a series of reasons why it can't be done...
why it is impossible...
always feeling like I am pushing against walls...

the idea of spaciousness has stuck to my heart like a sticky leaf.


One of my favorite phrases for teachers 
and parents
and mostly myself...
is Emily Dickinson's:

I LOVE to dwell in possibility.
Soak up possibility like it is a warm bath.
Anything is possible.

I believe it, completely.

So maybe Yutori is just a reflection of that.

Spaciousness makes room for possibility.

All I can tell you is that living with spaciousness, I feel different.
Willing to linger...
...and that is what I need in 2017.

My heart knows it intuitively.

So, my gift to you is this precious word.


I hope it offers you the comfort of enough...
more than enough.
The gift of feeling that anything is possible.
The treasure of a peaceful heart...
and a willing mind.

Roll it around in your head and let me know...
and if that's not the word for you...
test out a few others.

Share with me the word that finds you.

Until then, let your head find some open space and rest.
Let your heart find comfort in plenty of room.
Stretch out...
you're wanted here.