Month: March 2011

A Very Small Parcel

When I reread my last post, I got the sinking feeling that I’d allowed myself to commit the one blogging sin that I vowed never to commit: writing primarily about myself.  Way too many “I’s.”  Feeling slightly redeemed by having invited you to write in, I felt even more grateful that you shared such lovely anticipations.  When I started this blog, I made a promise to myself to try to write only what is worth reading, and for me that is all about what connects with others.  Because honestly, the details of a single person’s life are just not that interesting.  Too many bloggers forget this, and I semi-forgot it myself because I was feeling a little lazy.  And when we are lazy in life, it shows up in writing.  In fact, when we are lazy or distracted or just a tad too self-involved, it shows up everywhere.  As John Ruskin wrote, “A man wrapped up in himself makes a pretty small parcel.”  But then something wonderful came along and inspired me… Continue reading “A Very Small Parcel” →

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Is it OK to Look Forward to Things?

Some things make me embarrassed to be human: pet clothes boutiques, deep fried Twinkies on a stick, and having spent my spring break at a place where there was a Beef Jerky Outlet.  I don’t like to be confronted with things that shamelessly celebrate our most basic (basest?) desires and our insistence on indulging them.  I at least like to think of myself as restrained, tasteful.  But I’ve learned that when things outside me are irritating, I should probably look inside at whatever is getting its feathers ruffled.  And though beef jerky, even deep fried and on sale, wouldn’t tempt me, many other insta-indulgences would. 

brief jerky

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God Hates Noone. On the Road to Gatlinburg.

We are spending our Spring Break in the Smoky Mountains in Tennessee, and since this blog is leading up to Lent, I thought I would share a timely Tennessee law, just in case this affects your upcoming plans: “No Christian parent may require their children to pick up trash from the highway on Easter day.”  I didn’t drive on the almost 9-hour ride down here because it is also “illegal for a woman to drive a car unless there is a man either running or walking in front of it waving a red flag to warn approaching motorists and pedestrians.”  Although that’s only in Memphis, we didn’t want to take any chances given my recent car-related run-ins with the law.  And though I’m fairly sure I saw evidence of this law being broken, it is a laudable one nonetheless: “You may not have more than five inoperable vehicles on a piece of property.”  Finally, while we ourselves certainly did provide evidence of the following Tennessean legal assertion at various points during the drive:  “the definition of ‘dumb animal’ includes every living creature,” I can assure you that we were not alone.

Continue reading “God Hates Noone. On the Road to Gatlinburg.” →

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the deepest secret nobody knows

It is such a good thing that people lie to you when you have very young children, and you ask them if it ever gets easier and they say “Yes!”  Because if they told the truth, your own and possibly your offspring’s chances of surviving the first 5 years of their lives would decrease significantly.  I don’t know why people lie to parents of small children about this.  It might be because the horrible physical demands of early parenting do easy up (sleep deprivation, carrying loads of crap everywhere, existing in a constant state of muscle-twitching vigilance, etc.) , and you don’t really have to deal with vomit or snot or feces as much with a teenager as you do with an under-3.  Of course, if you did, you’ve really got a completely different set of issues.  No, I think the reason people perpetuate the myth that parenting gets easier is because the reality would just be too much to take on board for at least the first 10 years.  And the reality is that with each year of your child’s life that passes, you lose less and less control.  So whereas at first your main job is to keep another human alive, when every atom of your body is dedicated to this 24/7/365 to infinity, eventually you just become obsolete.  Except no one remembers to tell your heart this.

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Buried Treasure

On this beautiful sunny midwest morning (hey, do I sound like I’m from California??), I had the joy of speaking about therapeutic writing to a group of folks at Generations of Hope, a very cool multi-generational community.  At Generations of Hope,”children adopted from foster care find permanent and loving homes, as well as grandparents, playmates and an entire neighborhood designed to help them grow up in a secure and nurturing environment.”  This morning at Hope Meadows, we talked about writing, about how it needs compassion about self-permission in order to thrive.  Going through the world with an open and watchful heart really helps too.  And then they asked me the question everyone asks about ongoing writing which is, “How do I find time to do it?”  Here is the secret to answering this question…

Continue reading “Buried Treasure” →

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Antilamentations. Or Why You Should Make Lots of Mistakes.

My apologies for not beginning this year’s Lenten blog on the first of Lent, but I have a good reason.  I was the victim of the ferocious digestive virus that has been circling our city like a plague of locusts.  First Gabe got it.  He puked all over himself while sitting in his car seat on the way to daycare.  Oh, the crying.  The stench.  The longing for a new car seat.  And he had been totally okay ten minutes before.  Then last Monday, I was at work, fine one minute, and doubled over in pain the next.  And seriously, the only thing I could think of to do was to call my mother who lives 800 miles away.  I didn’t, but still. 

So, I spent Fat Tuesday/Mardi Gras cursing every morsel of food I had eaten in the last week, and Ash Wednesday piously fasting, but only because if I ate anything I’d see it again in some form in about 30 minutes.  Anyway.  Welcome to Lent 2011.  For some background on both Lent and why I am writing this Lenten blog, please click here.   At least if you read that, it will lift the tone of this post out of the toilet.  Literally.

Continue reading “Antilamentations. Or Why You Should Make Lots of Mistakes.” →

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Even If I Don’t See It Again

Hello everyone!  Well, this makes me sound like Out of Africa’s Karen Blixen (“I had a farm in Africa, at the foot of the Ngong Hills…”), but nevertheless: I’ve been on a ranch in Malibu, at the foot of the Santa Monica mountains.  Yes indeed–I got a free pass on 5 weeks of Illinois winter this year and it was exquisite.  Looking out my window right now, it’s gray and bare, but that’s okay, because if I close my eyes I can see mountain trails lined with rosemary and eucalyptus, magical waterfalls and fragrant bay leaf trees, and the tidal pools of Matador Beach, dotted with sea urchins that close like tiny fists around your finger if you touch them.  If we instituted a mandatory month in southern California every February, the world would be a much happier place, I feel sure. 

El Matador Beach (I walked through this cove)

Continue reading “Even If I Don’t See It Again” →

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