Preparing for Winter: Tuesday's Reflection

October seems a bit early for snow, but that was not my decision and last week we got our first smattering of snow. It's still there, thanks to the lingering cold temperatures. Trick and Treating will be a cold endeavor tonight. 

It is time to prepare for winter. 


My husband has been putting the gardens to bed, and inside, I have changed our bedding, adding a cozy coverlet and a colorful quilt.

I bought new flannel pajamas.

I tossed a shawl over my desk chair for extra warmth when I write, and more than one chair has a warm throw to use when reading. I even placed a fake fur throw over the living room rug. How cozy is that! 

I moved winter coats and scarves and gloves out of a storage closet, and I have already fixed soup for more than one supper. The car is ready for winter driving, and the shovel is available for action. 

When you live in a place like Minnesota you take winter preparations seriously. 

I happen to love winter, but I know this dark time of the year is not welcomed by everyone. In fact, I know many of you are planning your escape to warmer climes, but before you go, perhaps this early winter is inviting you to consider the gifts of these months. Even if you live someplace where winter is more of a word than a season, these October into November into December days may signal a call to deeper awareness of Spirit.

Many of us feel the weight of these darker days, days darkened not just by the turning of the year, but also by events in the world that distress and disturb us. This winter season, however, can be a time to commune with our soul and to lean into the promptings of Spirit. 

Joyce Rupp says each season is a "classroom of the heart."

           Listen carefully. Each season addresses your needs.
           Through your obedient listening you receive new
           insights. You find encouragement. You are surrounded
           with beauty. As you walk through the seasons of the
           year, listen for each season's voice. Be attentive to it.
           Identify the lessons it has for you. Let the heartbeat of
           the seasons resonate with the heartbeat of your life. 
           Hear the questions they ask. Receive their wisdom. The
           seasons are your teachers. Listen closely. They are speaking
           to you.
                                      The Circle of Life, p. 28
                                       Joyce Rupp and Macrina Wiederkehr

An Invitation
What lessons of these previous months do you bring with you into these winter months? What questions are you invited to wrap around you? I would love to know. 




                                       

Loving the Day:Thursday's Reflection

              There will be something, 
anguish or elation, 
              that is peculiar to this day alone. I rise from sleep 
              and say: Hail to the morning! Come down to me, 
              my beautiful unknown.
                                 Jessica Powers

How did you greet the day today? 

Did you rise rested? 

Did you awake from a dream, one that seemed so real?

Did you look out the window to see if frost touched the tips of your last roses? 

Did you follow your usual routine or was there something that drew you into the day in a different way? 

Did you lollygag through the first hour or two or rush to dress and be on your way? 

Did you send any blessings? To the children walking past your house on the way to school? To those heading off to work, a coffee mug in their hands? To your loved ones, near and far?

Did you rest your hand on your heart, remembering a loss that throbs like a toothache?

Did you list in your head all the things you need to do today? Do the laundry, make a Target run, clean the bathroom, pay bills. 

Did you sit in silence, breathing in, breathing out, finding your own rhythm and connecting with all that gives life.

Did you whisper to yourself and to the Divine, "I love my life?"

How will you remember the start of this day?

May today be one that blesses and enriches you.

An Invitation
How do you "hail the morning"? I would love to know. 

Simple Solution: Tuesday's Reflection

Days working at my desk had become uncomfortable. My back ached. My legs ached. Even my feet throbbed. 

What was going on? I wasn't spending more time than usual at my desk, but being there had become a painful experience. I got up and stretched and walked around frequently. I added a pillow for my back and even sat on an additional cushion. Nope, that didn't make a difference. 

I was beginning to worry I had a pinched nerve or worse. So many people in my age category are having knee or hip or back surgery, and I began to spin in my mind a spider web of thoughts about coping with physical issues. 

"Get a grip, Nancy," I told myself. 

I had a mini aha moment and tried another chair. One not quite so attractive as my antique wood chair with wide arms. A chair appropriate for the head of a dining room table. The trial chair was a simple folding chair, light weight, no arms, and, amazingly, that felt better. Not quite right, however. (I was beginning to feel like Goldilocks.)

Without going into too much detail about my desk arrangement, you need to know that my desk surface is not very big and I compensate for that with a small lightweight adjustable table perpendicular to my desk. My laptop is on that table, which means I twist back and forth between the two surfaces. 




Ah, I need a swivel chair on wheels. Off I went to Ikea and test drove a number of chairs, bought one, and voila, no more pain, no more aches. Now I move easily from side to side and even across the floor to the nearby bookshelf. 

The solution was simple, once I opened my mind to finding a solution. Once I decided to move away from fear of what might be the problem. Once I decided to actually do something about the issue. 

I wonder how often we stay stuck in a problem due to fear or perhaps a lack of imagination. I wonder how often we prefer the status quo, even when it is uncomfortable, because it is at least something we know. I wonder what it is that finally forces us to get a grip and open to a simple solution.

I thought about other times I have remained far too long in a situation that no longer was healthy or positive or realistic. I thought about times when I have not felt the movement of God in my life. What did I do then? 

I sat in silence.
I took a walk.
I asked for help.
I listened to my inner voice.
I wrote in my journal.
I prayed.
I tried to be gentle with myself.
I moved from fear to love. 

In this case, the solution was not rocket science and didn't take much trial and error to solve the problem. Certainly, that is not always the case, but the invitation to view something with new eyes is always possible. 

An Invitation
Is there something in your life right now that invites you to change, to find a simple or at least a new solution? I would love to know. 

Fall in all its Glory: Thursday's Reflection

I love working in my garret space, and most days this is just where I want to be. My only view, however, is our garage roof, and some days I just need more atmosphere. Some days I need to know what it is like outside. Some days I need to leave the isolation and quiet of my comfortable space and get out!

"Let's go to the arboretum," I suggested.


I packed up some writing work and off we went to the Minnesota Arboretum. Needless to say, we weren't the only ones with that idea, for it was an iconic October day. Carloads of people in the Third Chapter of life had the same idea, along with mothers of children not yet old enough for school. Strollers and walkers!

We were all there to breathe the fall air and catch a glimpse of leaves drifting from one reality to another. We oohed and aahed at the colors, still lush, not yet fading.

Can you spot the human pumpkin?

And the pumpkins and squash! All the creative displays made me think I have not done nearly enough fall decorating at our house. 

I unpacked my writing materials by a window in the dining room that looked out onto a patio and after an early lunch, I tackled a current project. Used to working alone in the garret, I wondered if I would be distracted by all the people chatting around me or if the view would demand all my attention. But, instead, I eased into the surroundings. I felt renewed and more alive to the beauty around me. 

I am back in the garret, as I write this, and I am happy to be here, but my arboretum time reminded me that routine can easily become a rut. If I choose, I can discover all sorts of places that amaze and delight; places where I can even work. 

Sometimes a bit of a change is all we need. 

      "I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers."
                                                     L.M. Montgomery



Minnesota Arboretum

The Loss of a Pet: Tuesday's Reflection

 Some days are just sad.  

True, there are reasons to be sad most days. The news of deaths in Somalia and ongoing losses in Puerto Rico and California and everywhere where there is suffering from natural disasters or manmade violence makes us sad. 
Other things make us sad, too. Disappointments in our work or at school. Regrets about what we now realize we could have done, perhaps should have done. 

But today in our family we are sad because Ralph, who belonged to our daughter and her family, has come to the end of his life. He was a rescue dog, about fifteen years old, and was a gentle companion with a sweet nature. Everyone in the neighborhood knew Ralph because his favorite spot was the front yard where he received pats and rubs from many who passed by. None of us were ready for this loss, but I suspect Ralph was. 

And so the family said a reluctant good bye, and now is a time to be sad. 

Marianne Williamson in her book Everyday Grace, Having Hope, Finding Forgiveness, and Making Miracles retells an old Buddhist story about a monk who cried at his master's grave.  He was asked why he was crying. Wasn't he enlightened? He responded, "Because I am sad." 

In order to transcend our grief, we need to feel it. "No situation can be transformed until it is accepted as it is." 

But some days it is too early to see glimpses of what we are to learn from our sadness, even if it is the gift of becoming more compassionate to others in their grief. Some days are just sad. Some days we are just meant to be sad. 

An Invitation
What has made you sad recently? Did you allow yourself to be sad? I would love to know. 

The Right Words: Thursday's Reflection

How often do just the right words land in front of you? "Just what I need" words.

This week that seems to be the case for me.

#1
          Use what you have, use what the
          world gives you. Use the first day
          of fall: bright flame before 
          winter's deadness; harvest; 
          orange, gold amber cool nights 
          and the smell of fire. Our tree-
          lined streets are set ablaze, 
          our kitchens filled with the smells of nostalgia: apples
          bubbling into sauce, roasting squash, cinnamon, nutmeg, 
          cider, warmth itself. The leaves as they spark into 
          wild color just before they die are the world's oldest 
          performance art, and everything we see is celebrating one 
          last violently hued hurrah before the black and white
          silence of winter.
                                          Shauna Niequist

Now, I love fall and I love winter too, and rejoice in the glories of both seasons, but this quotation reminds me that whatever the season, I have what I need, as long as I am awake to what is around me and am open to use what the world offers. 

#2
            I press on toward the goal for the prize of the
            heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus.
                                            Philippians 3:14

Re-entering the work of revising my manuscript has been difficult (!) since returning from our road trip, but these words, which concluded the reading of the First Lesson on Sunday, reminded me that my goal of writing a spiritual memoir is a response to the call of God. Later that day I heard writer, teacher, and writing coach, Elizabeth Jarret Andrew say "God continues to create through my life," and I felt myself open again to this long and complicated and often arduous process. 

#3
              ...our own path is for us alone to explore. We have
              gifts to offer that no one else can offer in quite the
              same way and so we are called for our own sakes and
              for the sake of the world. The more we awaken to our
              deep self (the place within where God dwells), the 
              more we bring that to the collective energy of 
              awakening consciousness of our fragile planet.
                                           Christina Valters Paintner

These words encourage me to examine the energies I may be neglecting to share with others and also to take time to use my energy in ways that both nurture the person I was created to be and to support the people and causes that matter most to me. 

#4
               Each of us is an artist of our days; the greater 
               our integrity and awareness, the more original
               and creative our time will become.
                                            John O'Donohue

Yes, I know this to be true. 

Teachers and lessons, encouragement and clarity abound if we open to and integrate them. I know this to be true, too.

An Invitation
What words have spoken to you recently. I would love to know. 




            

Re-Entry Notes: Tuesday's Reflection

What's your routine when you return home after being on vacation 
for days or even weeks? After a twelve day road trip to attend a niece's wedding in Vermont and also spend times with our kids in Cleveland and friends in the Boston area, we returned home early last week. I am basically a homebody and oh, how wonderful it was to cross the threshold of our sweet little house.

My husband and I both do well with the initial re-entry tasks: unloading the car, unpacking our bags and treasures acquired along the way, doing the laundry, sorting the mail and paying bills. That first afternoon I even went grocery shopping. 

But then the resettlement slowed down. 

During my morning meditation time, which had been hit and miss during our time away, my mind wandered to the back roads we had travelled: the fields of sunflowers in Indiana, the white steepled churches nestled in hills of small towns, the hints of fall color, the front porches of farmhouses, the barns, somehow elegant in their architecture. And mums and pumpkins everywhere. 

I was more there than here. 

Plus, I thought about all the good conversations we had with loved ones: our son's new job and also development of his own design business (Both Feet Designs); our daughter-in-love's growing expertise and presence in her work; fill in the blanks conversations with many dear to us. And, of course, all the happy talk focusing on the bride and groom. 

A good time.

While on the trip I divorced myself from my laptop (brought it, but only opened it once) and Facebook and email, only checking occasionally to make sure there wasn't something that needed immediate attention. I have yet to return to Facebook.

But once home, it was time to resume writing in this blog.  I intended to write a new post for last Thursday, but that clearly did not happen. Instead of writing, I bought pumpkins and decorated for fall. I rearranged my closet, moving from summer to fall. I sat in the snug and read one of the many books I bought on the trip in two excellent independent bookstores (Concord Bookshop in Concord, MA, and Phoenix Bookstore in Rutland, VT). I wrote thank you notes and got out soup recipes. 

I was more there than here. 

Shortly before leaving on our trip I outlined a new structure for my book on my dryerase board, and I was eager to start the revision process. I assumed I could jump right back when I got home. Wrong! For several hours on two different afternoons last week I sat with my hands poised over the keyboard. I looked at notes about possible changes. I deleted a few words in an opening chapter and changed the tense from present to past, but that was it. I stared at the dry erase board. Nothing. 

Finally, I read a post in a writing blog I receive once a week from the author and teacher, Mary Carroll Moore.

            The book disappears from your consciousness after
            three days so you might not be able to spend the 
            next writing session actually moving forward. You
            may be spending half your time reacquainting 
            yourself with the book.

Duh! I had been unconnected from my book not for just three days, but for almost two weeks. "Give yourself a break, Nancy," I told myself. "This is going to take awhile."

Here's what occurs to me: not only did I need to reacquaint myself with my book, but after separation from home, I needed to reacquaint myself with my life here, my surroundings, my normal routines. I realize not everyone has that luxury, and I certainly remember the days when we returned from a vacation one day and the next day we were back to work. That is not true for my life now during these Third Chapter years. 

I can take my time. I can enjoy the re-entry process, as much as the time spent seeing new views and being with friends and family we don't see often enough. I can consciously integrate the gifts of those days into these first days back home.

I can be there and here at the same time. 

An Invitation
How do you handle re-entry? What is easy and what takes a bit more effort? I would love to know.