The difference between being a grandmother and being a mother can be likened to the difference between having a chauffer driven ride in the country and being driven by your teenager, who has a learner's permit, somewhere in rush hour traffic. As a grandma you can sit back and enjoy the ride and the accompanying scenery. As a mother you feel compelled to instruct and correct while putting your foot firmly on the non-existent passenger's side brake. You don't dare enjoy too much of the scenery because you are focused on making sure both you and your child behind the wheel arrive alive.
I love being a mother. It is scary and painful and amazing and joyful---just like childbirth---a precursor of things to come...I must admit being a grandma is a lot of fun and something I can truly sit back and enjoy. Although I do stress a little about being a really good grandmother. I want my grandkids to have fond memories of me and I hope I can teach them a good lesson or two. (Although lessons taught by grandparents are often more subtle) One of the great things about being a grandparent is it gives you a second chance of sorts. If your children don't have as many good memories of you as their parent as you would hope then at least maybe they can catch a better glimpse of you through the eyes of their children.
Yesterday I got to go to a natural history museum (Two museum trips in one week--this was indeed a good week) and to an old-fashioned drugstore with my oldest daughter and her children, my granddaughter and grandson. It was delightful. My granddaughter enjoyed looking at the taxidermied birds and their eggs, the rocks, the butterfly and moth collections, and the old bottle collection. My grandson would have had much more fun (And gotten into a lot of trouble) if he would have been out of his stroller and allowed to crawl around and explore. He did get out of his stoller for a few minutes and delighted in playing a Native American drum while he bounced to the beat.
It is interesting to see what captures the attention of children. My granddaughter really liked looking at the aquarium. She has one in her home but this one had a 'Nemo' fish. In the Native American Art room she wasn't as much interested in the baskets and headdresses as she was in playing with some pottery pieces that were in a 'hands on' display. She grouped the pottery pieces into family units (Children naturally do this---even at tender ages children recognize the family as a fundamentally vital element of a healthy society)
As adults we always seem to have a clock ticking in our heads even when we are engaged in leisure activities. We look at something in a museum and then we move on expecting our children to do the same but children aren't as aware of time so they move on when they are ready--when they are done--or when something else catches their eye---they don't feel a need to keep moving for the sake of moving on. (However sometimes my children, especially as they grew older, would tug at me because I would be taking too long looking at something when they wanted to move on) My granddaughter did let us know when she was done. (Children do have timers--they rarely work in concert with their parent's timers) After seeing what she wanted to see she said, "Nana can I get out of the museum now?" She happily left with a bag of polished rocks and some candy rocks. Do you ever notice how as parents we vigilantly tell our children what not to put in their mouths but then we buy them edible versions of non-edibles and enthusiastically encourage them to partake? No wonder my granddaughter looked at the rocks a little apprehensively. (After lunch there was a hint of the same look when I offered her a cupcake with dirt--crushed oreos--and a worm--gummy--on top)
At the drugstore my granddaughter really took a liking to an old-fashioned spinning top. The kind with a handle that you push on. She liked it so much that when my inner timer said it was time to look at something else and I tried to put it away she grabbed it and insisted on playing with it a little longer. She also enjoyed rearranging the window display. She moved two porcelain birds into a nest with eggs. That did seem to be an appropriate arrangement. She found relief in a comfy chair for sale after she had been told to not touch something. She sucked her thumb and got a little upset when I tried to share the chair with her. She directed me to a nearby rocking chair. She was tired and hungry. We made our way to the exit and her mom stopped to buy some sticker books for her. While her mom paid for the purchase my granddaughter rearranged some farm animal groups---I think she was matching up mothers and their babies. My grandson was very good considering he just had to look at a lot of tantalizing things just barely out of his reach.
After the drugstore we came back home to Nana's house for lunch. My grandson feasted on pieces of bread, string cheese, blueberries, and baby food. He thouroughly enjoys eating. My granddaughter nibbled on a bologna sandwich, a few berries, and pretzels. My daughter and I enjoyed chatting about everything from world affairs to good books and recipes. Simple pleasures...
I love playing with my grandkids. I love chasing them and making them giggle. I love exploring with them. I have tried to make my extra bedroom into a fun playroom with several toys and books to engage young hands and minds. While my daughter was getting her very tired and fussy baby boy ready for the car ride home, I went to get my granddaughter and found her in the playroom not playing with the toys or books but playing a game of her own invention of dropping chalk through a cardboard wrapping paper tube into a bowl. I was privileged to be invited to join in the game. You know--it was fun. Simple activities become grand events and grand events become even more grand than we can imagine when experienced with the simple wonder and unadulterated enthusiasm of a child.
My world is so much brighter when my grandson smiles at me or when his big sister returns my hugs. My granddaughter rearranged my sofa table decor, moving a lone bird closer to its two 'baby bird's, on her way out. When the door shut after several goodbyes I was tired but renewed and I thought about how much I cherish my family---what they say---what they do---their facial expressions and laughter---what they do to my heart. I am glad that Heavenly Father put us into families. It feels like the right arrangement.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Conversing With Artists
On Monday I went with a good friend on a lovely adventure to the BYU Museum of Art and the BYU Bookstore. Art Museums (Most any kind of museum) and bookstores---pieces of heaven on earth for me. I find both art museums and bookstores soothing and stimulating at the same time. Let me try and explain...
I love art museums because the works you find in them try to answer questions and end up asking even more. Artists try to give voice to what they see through their eyes. I think it is interesting that every art form is a cooperation of our spirits and elements of earth. Painters paint what they see in their mind's eye with paints taken from the earth. Sculptors sculpt with earth itself. Dancers (I think dancing is a pure and exciting form of art because in dancing our spirits really can move our bodies) create movement executed on the ground beneath their feet. For me, art is very spirtual because of this bringing together the physical and the spiritual to create something exhilartingly thought provoking.
My husband says he thinks we all helped create the Earth and everything in it. I like that idea. It would explain why some people feel connected to the mountains or others to the ocean or why some people like trees and others feel drawn to animals. Maybe we can really stretch things here and think that we not only helped create landscapes and creatures but sounds---like maybe someone musical created the sound of water trickling over rocks...It could be lots of fun to look at people you know and imagine what on the earth they would have helped create or form. I believe each of us is creative because we are children of the Creator--Heavenly Father--our Father. Some of us feel a greater need to create than others but we all feel it. It is part of us. Every now and then I hear someone say that they are not at all creative. That is not a true statement. Some people might not paint or sculpt or dance but they create beautiful or peaceful environments. Others create order out of disorder. There are many ways to create and in which to be creative. Art museums soothe my soul in speaking to my spirit in a language that I seem to remember and they stimulate me by awakening an awareness in my spirit brain and a desire in my spirit heart. I also like them because of the nice little signs that accompany each piece and give a brief background or explanation. Sometimes I wish more things in life and events in life had those nice little summations but that would probably make things too easy and inhibit my ability to form my own perceptions and understanding. Does that make sense?
The special exhibit we enjoyed was called Mirror Mirror:Contemporary Portraits and the Fugitive Self. (How could I not be curious about a title like that?) The exhibit showed the influence of technological media on the traditional art form of portraiture---in other words they were trying to visually represent the true self incorporating various kinds of modern media.One of my favorite pieces in the special exhibit was in a room where projected on three walls was video of people coming and going at a busy intersection in New York City. I am an avid people watcher so I found it fascinating and satisfying to sit and watch the people without the worry of being caught. With the larger than life projections and the background sounds you felt as if you were there. Suddenly faces in the crowd became more than that. Some of the faces wore such emotion. The faces drew you in like covers of books and you found yourself wanting to know the stories that went with the faces. My friend and I sat there and watched for several minutes. While we sat there she told me of an harrowing experience she had getting lost in New York City. Her story was made even more real by the pictures of people coming and going. (I wonder if there was a hidden camera filming our reactions to the people being filmed? Hmmm...)
Another favorite piece was a large tree sculpture that was covered in a black velvet fabric and had clear glass or plastic birds perched on the branches. The birds were filled with Windex. Fascinating... Another piece was a video of two people dancing. The artist had posted an ad for people to be in a dance video. Two people who showed up were very different--so different that they were chosen to be in the video. One was a tall, thin young man and one was a shorter kind of plump middle-aged woman. They danced together. Sometimes they looked almost absurd but they danced together in spite of their obvious differences on several levels. It was stirring in an odd sort of way. There were several pieces by one artist that I was looking at number 3 of 4 before I realized that they were paintings and not photographs! So much fun...I could go on and on...wait, I already have.
After the museum we fed our bodies which were lagging behind our full and invigorated minds at the time and then we headed to the bookstore. My favorite bookstore is Sam Weller's in Salt Lake City because it has creaking floors and smells of old books and there is a basement with wonderful used books that have things written inside like 'Merry Christmas Bob' or something that makes you a feel like a part of the previous book owner's life. But...BYU Bookstore is fun because they have all kinds of church books, a real candy department, and a children's book section that I could wander in for quite some time... Bookstores invite me in and make me want to make myself at home. They also excite me because I can take a book in my hands and for a moment have an out of body experience in traveling to a different time period or a different country, or a different time of life.
We finished our adventure by taking a drive down memory lane for my friend who graduated from BYU and lived near campus while attending. I really enjoy driving people down memory lane...a Memory Lane Chauffer would be a good job to apply for----
I think I made it perfectly clear how much I enjoyed this outing. I enjoyed it so much that this week seemed to not start with a Monday. Just yesterday while I was scrubbing my floor I saw a work of art outside of my kitchen window. It was a landscape of a tree made soft with baby leaves silouhetted against billowy white clouds gathering to cover a patch of blue sky. The perspective was one of looking upward. What works of art have you seen lately?
I love art museums because the works you find in them try to answer questions and end up asking even more. Artists try to give voice to what they see through their eyes. I think it is interesting that every art form is a cooperation of our spirits and elements of earth. Painters paint what they see in their mind's eye with paints taken from the earth. Sculptors sculpt with earth itself. Dancers (I think dancing is a pure and exciting form of art because in dancing our spirits really can move our bodies) create movement executed on the ground beneath their feet. For me, art is very spirtual because of this bringing together the physical and the spiritual to create something exhilartingly thought provoking.
My husband says he thinks we all helped create the Earth and everything in it. I like that idea. It would explain why some people feel connected to the mountains or others to the ocean or why some people like trees and others feel drawn to animals. Maybe we can really stretch things here and think that we not only helped create landscapes and creatures but sounds---like maybe someone musical created the sound of water trickling over rocks...It could be lots of fun to look at people you know and imagine what on the earth they would have helped create or form. I believe each of us is creative because we are children of the Creator--Heavenly Father--our Father. Some of us feel a greater need to create than others but we all feel it. It is part of us. Every now and then I hear someone say that they are not at all creative. That is not a true statement. Some people might not paint or sculpt or dance but they create beautiful or peaceful environments. Others create order out of disorder. There are many ways to create and in which to be creative. Art museums soothe my soul in speaking to my spirit in a language that I seem to remember and they stimulate me by awakening an awareness in my spirit brain and a desire in my spirit heart. I also like them because of the nice little signs that accompany each piece and give a brief background or explanation. Sometimes I wish more things in life and events in life had those nice little summations but that would probably make things too easy and inhibit my ability to form my own perceptions and understanding. Does that make sense?
The special exhibit we enjoyed was called Mirror Mirror:Contemporary Portraits and the Fugitive Self. (How could I not be curious about a title like that?) The exhibit showed the influence of technological media on the traditional art form of portraiture---in other words they were trying to visually represent the true self incorporating various kinds of modern media.One of my favorite pieces in the special exhibit was in a room where projected on three walls was video of people coming and going at a busy intersection in New York City. I am an avid people watcher so I found it fascinating and satisfying to sit and watch the people without the worry of being caught. With the larger than life projections and the background sounds you felt as if you were there. Suddenly faces in the crowd became more than that. Some of the faces wore such emotion. The faces drew you in like covers of books and you found yourself wanting to know the stories that went with the faces. My friend and I sat there and watched for several minutes. While we sat there she told me of an harrowing experience she had getting lost in New York City. Her story was made even more real by the pictures of people coming and going. (I wonder if there was a hidden camera filming our reactions to the people being filmed? Hmmm...)
Another favorite piece was a large tree sculpture that was covered in a black velvet fabric and had clear glass or plastic birds perched on the branches. The birds were filled with Windex. Fascinating... Another piece was a video of two people dancing. The artist had posted an ad for people to be in a dance video. Two people who showed up were very different--so different that they were chosen to be in the video. One was a tall, thin young man and one was a shorter kind of plump middle-aged woman. They danced together. Sometimes they looked almost absurd but they danced together in spite of their obvious differences on several levels. It was stirring in an odd sort of way. There were several pieces by one artist that I was looking at number 3 of 4 before I realized that they were paintings and not photographs! So much fun...I could go on and on...wait, I already have.
After the museum we fed our bodies which were lagging behind our full and invigorated minds at the time and then we headed to the bookstore. My favorite bookstore is Sam Weller's in Salt Lake City because it has creaking floors and smells of old books and there is a basement with wonderful used books that have things written inside like 'Merry Christmas Bob' or something that makes you a feel like a part of the previous book owner's life. But...BYU Bookstore is fun because they have all kinds of church books, a real candy department, and a children's book section that I could wander in for quite some time... Bookstores invite me in and make me want to make myself at home. They also excite me because I can take a book in my hands and for a moment have an out of body experience in traveling to a different time period or a different country, or a different time of life.
We finished our adventure by taking a drive down memory lane for my friend who graduated from BYU and lived near campus while attending. I really enjoy driving people down memory lane...a Memory Lane Chauffer would be a good job to apply for----
I think I made it perfectly clear how much I enjoyed this outing. I enjoyed it so much that this week seemed to not start with a Monday. Just yesterday while I was scrubbing my floor I saw a work of art outside of my kitchen window. It was a landscape of a tree made soft with baby leaves silouhetted against billowy white clouds gathering to cover a patch of blue sky. The perspective was one of looking upward. What works of art have you seen lately?
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Why Are These Experiences Mine?
Wow. A whole week has gone by and I have not written. Most likely that has had absolutely no effect on the universe...but I'm back!
A woman of faith, who I admire, recently made a comment when bearing her testimony in church that reverberated through my mind. Her children are not active in the church (The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints) and she said, 'having children who stray from the church (gospel) is something many of you will never experience'. That causes me to ask one of my favorite questions...why? Why is it something some will never experience but others will? Is it because some people don't need to learn the lessons that come with that experience or is it because they will learn the lessons in a different way? I believe the answer is yes to both questions.
Just as we are born with special physical abilities or talents we are also born with special spiritual abilities---spiritual gifts. Maybe some people already have what they would gain from a certain experience or at least they have moved beyond the developing phase and onto the practicing or honing phase.
Each one of us learns differently so it makes sense that what teaches one person say-- patience-- may not teach patience to another person. How wonderful that Heavenly Father gives us what he knows we need in order to become who he knows we can become. I pray for patience (among many other virtues in which I am sadly deficient) but would I have signed up for some of the lessons Heavenly Father has taught me about patience? Maybe if it was multiple choice I would have chosen even my difficult lessons over other lessons. Hmm... Heavenly Father doesn't give us more than what he knows we can handle and he adds his strength to ours. This is a whole other topic for a different day...
Now tell me again why we have trials? In Job we read that man is born unto trouble, our mortal bodies are a gift from God but they are susceptable to pain, injury, disease, and death. Another gift from God is our agency---our freedom to choose. There are very few choices we make in this life that do not affect someone else. So our trials come as a result of being mortal, or as a result of our poor choices or the poor choices of someone else. I believe that sometimes God saves us from trials and sometimes he saves us through trials. In his infinite wisdom he decides which is best. As parents we sometimes suffer as we watch our children struggle because they need to learn and Heavenly Father knows so much more than we do. I don't think Heavenly Father so much hands out trials as he offers opportunities and we accept some of the goodness he offers by how we face our trials. I think this is what the apostle Paul was speaking of to the Corinthians when he said, Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong.
When my friend and neighbor made the statement that prompted all of these thoughts there were some in the congregation who have experienced having a child stray, and there were some who could only imagine what it must be like, but people in both situations were probably either feeling compassion for the woman, gratitude for children who hadn't strayed, or hope for children who had---all good feelings. Heavenly Father makes sure that blessings come in many ways and often many people will eat of the fruit of one seed. The trials of those we love become our trials. While loved ones learn divine lessons we learn some of our own. We have promised to bear one another's burdens. Our Savior has suffered all so that he could succor us in our time of need.
Sometimes I think I have the answers to Why? Why me? Why now? Why this? But then something that I perceive to be so much bigger than myself happens and the answers seem to elude me. It can be very difficult to make some experiences fit in our minds and our hearts but like Heavenly Father told the prophet Joseph Smith when Joseph was suffering greatly in Liberty Jail, know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good. Sometimes we need to let go of our questions and take comfort in the fact that Heavenly Father knows the answers. I know I have a lot to learn but I am thankful that I can learn a lot if I so choose.
A woman of faith, who I admire, recently made a comment when bearing her testimony in church that reverberated through my mind. Her children are not active in the church (The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints) and she said, 'having children who stray from the church (gospel) is something many of you will never experience'. That causes me to ask one of my favorite questions...why? Why is it something some will never experience but others will? Is it because some people don't need to learn the lessons that come with that experience or is it because they will learn the lessons in a different way? I believe the answer is yes to both questions.
Just as we are born with special physical abilities or talents we are also born with special spiritual abilities---spiritual gifts. Maybe some people already have what they would gain from a certain experience or at least they have moved beyond the developing phase and onto the practicing or honing phase.
Each one of us learns differently so it makes sense that what teaches one person say-- patience-- may not teach patience to another person. How wonderful that Heavenly Father gives us what he knows we need in order to become who he knows we can become. I pray for patience (among many other virtues in which I am sadly deficient) but would I have signed up for some of the lessons Heavenly Father has taught me about patience? Maybe if it was multiple choice I would have chosen even my difficult lessons over other lessons. Hmm... Heavenly Father doesn't give us more than what he knows we can handle and he adds his strength to ours. This is a whole other topic for a different day...
Now tell me again why we have trials? In Job we read that man is born unto trouble, our mortal bodies are a gift from God but they are susceptable to pain, injury, disease, and death. Another gift from God is our agency---our freedom to choose. There are very few choices we make in this life that do not affect someone else. So our trials come as a result of being mortal, or as a result of our poor choices or the poor choices of someone else. I believe that sometimes God saves us from trials and sometimes he saves us through trials. In his infinite wisdom he decides which is best. As parents we sometimes suffer as we watch our children struggle because they need to learn and Heavenly Father knows so much more than we do. I don't think Heavenly Father so much hands out trials as he offers opportunities and we accept some of the goodness he offers by how we face our trials. I think this is what the apostle Paul was speaking of to the Corinthians when he said, Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong.
When my friend and neighbor made the statement that prompted all of these thoughts there were some in the congregation who have experienced having a child stray, and there were some who could only imagine what it must be like, but people in both situations were probably either feeling compassion for the woman, gratitude for children who hadn't strayed, or hope for children who had---all good feelings. Heavenly Father makes sure that blessings come in many ways and often many people will eat of the fruit of one seed. The trials of those we love become our trials. While loved ones learn divine lessons we learn some of our own. We have promised to bear one another's burdens. Our Savior has suffered all so that he could succor us in our time of need.
Sometimes I think I have the answers to Why? Why me? Why now? Why this? But then something that I perceive to be so much bigger than myself happens and the answers seem to elude me. It can be very difficult to make some experiences fit in our minds and our hearts but like Heavenly Father told the prophet Joseph Smith when Joseph was suffering greatly in Liberty Jail, know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good. Sometimes we need to let go of our questions and take comfort in the fact that Heavenly Father knows the answers. I know I have a lot to learn but I am thankful that I can learn a lot if I so choose.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Grocery Shopping---A Choice Experience
Yesterday I did BIG grocery shopping. BIG grocery shopping is in theory supposed to keep me out of the store for two weeks. BIG grocery shopping includes replenishing food storage and getting sale items in addition to basic day to day needs. It's the kind that takes two hours, lots of energy, and a chunk of money---the kind that causes the checker to fold your receipt several times before handing it you---the kind that makes you too tired to prepare any of the food you just bought---the kind that takes two days to put away---the kind...you get the picture.
I do feel blessed to the point of being humbled to be able to load up my shopping cart. Grocery shopping can be a pleasurable experience but it is an activity that in America involves an amazing number of choices. I like to have choices (sometimes I put a lot of effort into creating more choices for myself) but it wears me out to make them. After years of experience, I do know my way around the grocery store and I pretty much know exactly what I want, but there are a few products that bring consternation to the whole adventure...I spend too long deciding what shampoo to buy. Do I want my hair to be shiny, manageable, smooth and sleek, clean and clarified, mosturized, or volumized? Toothpaste is another tough one. Do I want toothpaste that freshens my breath, whitens my teeth, fights cavities, is tough on plaque, is easy on my gums or sparkles? Even white bread is not as simple to pick out as you would think. Do I want white bread that is whole grain or high in calcium, with added fiber or extra soft? I am a label reader and a coupon shopper which are both time consuming. Also, my daughter has a kind of restrictive diet so it takes some thought and effort to find something she can and will eat that also appeals to my husband's taste buds. So many choices...and then when you finally make it to the checkstand they ask if you want paper or plastic...one more choice before you go (Oh wait, there is always credit or debit?) I hope I am not the only one who has to take a minute to think before answering that question. (My oldest daughter always said that choosing between paper or plastic is choosing between killing a tree or choking a fish---I like trees so I usually choose plastic even though the thought of choking on a bag is not a pleasant one. I do feel sorry for fish that meet this fate but I really really like trees and I re-use the plastic bags to line my household wastebaskets so this lets the fish live a little longer)
Have you ever thought about what you can really purchase at the average grocery store? There are drinks that give you energy and even help your mental focus, there is soap that wakes you up, shampoo that repairs your hair, cereals that fortify you with vitamins, power bars that help you jump higher and run faster, makeup that firms, pantihose that shape and support, feminine products that give maximum protection, toothpaste that whitens and brightens, lotion that gives you younger skin, yogurt that builds strong bones, mouthwash that fights bad breath, and cookies that put a smile on your face. Who would have thought that a trip to the grocery store could do so much in helping you feel new and improved?
It gives new meaning to---Clean Up On Aisle 3
Happy shopping!
I do feel blessed to the point of being humbled to be able to load up my shopping cart. Grocery shopping can be a pleasurable experience but it is an activity that in America involves an amazing number of choices. I like to have choices (sometimes I put a lot of effort into creating more choices for myself) but it wears me out to make them. After years of experience, I do know my way around the grocery store and I pretty much know exactly what I want, but there are a few products that bring consternation to the whole adventure...I spend too long deciding what shampoo to buy. Do I want my hair to be shiny, manageable, smooth and sleek, clean and clarified, mosturized, or volumized? Toothpaste is another tough one. Do I want toothpaste that freshens my breath, whitens my teeth, fights cavities, is tough on plaque, is easy on my gums or sparkles? Even white bread is not as simple to pick out as you would think. Do I want white bread that is whole grain or high in calcium, with added fiber or extra soft? I am a label reader and a coupon shopper which are both time consuming. Also, my daughter has a kind of restrictive diet so it takes some thought and effort to find something she can and will eat that also appeals to my husband's taste buds. So many choices...and then when you finally make it to the checkstand they ask if you want paper or plastic...one more choice before you go (Oh wait, there is always credit or debit?) I hope I am not the only one who has to take a minute to think before answering that question. (My oldest daughter always said that choosing between paper or plastic is choosing between killing a tree or choking a fish---I like trees so I usually choose plastic even though the thought of choking on a bag is not a pleasant one. I do feel sorry for fish that meet this fate but I really really like trees and I re-use the plastic bags to line my household wastebaskets so this lets the fish live a little longer)
Have you ever thought about what you can really purchase at the average grocery store? There are drinks that give you energy and even help your mental focus, there is soap that wakes you up, shampoo that repairs your hair, cereals that fortify you with vitamins, power bars that help you jump higher and run faster, makeup that firms, pantihose that shape and support, feminine products that give maximum protection, toothpaste that whitens and brightens, lotion that gives you younger skin, yogurt that builds strong bones, mouthwash that fights bad breath, and cookies that put a smile on your face. Who would have thought that a trip to the grocery store could do so much in helping you feel new and improved?
It gives new meaning to---Clean Up On Aisle 3
Happy shopping!
Monday, April 19, 2010
Monday's Wash Line
I was unloading my dishwasher today and once again felt so grateful to have a dishwasher, especially to clean up after Sunday dinner or other special occasion dinners. I went for 27 years without owning a dishwasher. I didn't grow up with a dishwasher. I was raised to be one. I don't think my kids would like to hear this but I am glad we didn't get a dishwasher until all of them were pretty much grown up. I do think washing dishes by hand is very therapeutic, kind of soul-cleansing. Dishwashing time is also a great time for conversation and bonding with those you love. I still enjoy washing a few dishes by hand but there is something almost magical about putting dirty dishes into a box, pouring in detergent, closing the door, waiting... and then opening up the box to find clean dishes!
Pardon me for being a bit bizarre but as I was unloading the dishwasher I started thinking about the interesting possibilities of being able to put our minds in the dishwasher. Don't worry, they would go on the top rack with the Tupperware. We could wash off sticky spots left by worries or fears. We could scrub off unkind thoughts or wash away disturbing images. Think of how nice it would be to polish up fond memories. We wouldn't wash away anything vital but we would get them just clean enough that we could see ourselves in them. This is not to be confused with brainwashing--which actually involves having someone else put things in your mind--seems it would be more accurate to call it brain soiling. Of course we would need to be careful about the high heat setting which could warp our minds. (As you can see, my mind is already a tad warped) For now I'll stick to washing just dishes in my dishwasher but I am in search of a really big dishwasher that I could put my whole house inside of...talk about a thorough Spring Cleaning!
Pardon me for being a bit bizarre but as I was unloading the dishwasher I started thinking about the interesting possibilities of being able to put our minds in the dishwasher. Don't worry, they would go on the top rack with the Tupperware. We could wash off sticky spots left by worries or fears. We could scrub off unkind thoughts or wash away disturbing images. Think of how nice it would be to polish up fond memories. We wouldn't wash away anything vital but we would get them just clean enough that we could see ourselves in them. This is not to be confused with brainwashing--which actually involves having someone else put things in your mind--seems it would be more accurate to call it brain soiling. Of course we would need to be careful about the high heat setting which could warp our minds. (As you can see, my mind is already a tad warped) For now I'll stick to washing just dishes in my dishwasher but I am in search of a really big dishwasher that I could put my whole house inside of...talk about a thorough Spring Cleaning!
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Dancing Into Romance
Hi! I haven't had time this week to sit down and write but I have had lots of thoughts dancing around my brain. I would make a joke here about the thoughts having plenty of room to dance-alluding to big empty spaces but I think my brain is quite cluttered and that is why my thoughts get distracted or tripped up while trying to glide along mental pathways.
Anyway...A friend of mine recently made an insightful comment (she makes several) in her blog about romance and that got me to thinking about romance which despite its elusive qualities can be quite a lovely subject to ponder. Romance is dictionary defined as a feeling of excitement and mystery associated with love or a sentimental or idealized type of love. In other words we have a tough time wrapping our brains around romance but we know what it feels like.
Years ago my husband and I met a charming older couple who told us that dancing keeps romance alive in a marriage. They had been going dancing together every week for the 40 years of married life. I talked my husband into watching Dancing With The Stars with me last week. (I really don't think that counts as dancing together but hey-there were many other things my husband would have rather spent his time doing, like flossing his teeth or something but he endured the show because he said he enjoys spending time with me...that's romantic) I am not a regular viewer of Dancing With The Stars. (I am keeping up my fight against watching too much TV) It is kind of a glitzy popularity contest but it does have its good points and I am a sucker for watching ballroom dancing. (Besides my daughter talked me into watching it this season because she wanted to watch Evan Lysacek, the olympic gold medalist from the U.S.A., who she thinks is nice...and cute.) Interestingly, DWTS was having a Night of Romance as their theme. After watching just a few minutes of the show my husband said he doesn't think they understand the meaning of romance. With a guest performer dressed like a Victoria's Secret model (personally I think Victoria needs to be a lot better at keeping secrets), several sexual innuendos, and dancing that went a few steps too far into suggestive for my tastes, I agreed with my husband. Fred and Ginger dancing cheek to cheek were much better at defining romance.
Romance seems to be little understood and poorly portrayed in television these days but we can look to the silver screen for wonderful romantic moments. My copy of the A&E version of Pride and Prejudice ( Colin Firth is Mr. Darcy in my opinion) probably has extra wear in some sections because of hitting rewind to watch certain scenes over again. The way Mr. Darcy looks at Elizabeth while she is playing the fortepiano...he looks at her with such admiration and pure pleasure. Romance isn't a stare or a leer but an appreciative and longing glance. If a person's eyes are windows to their soul then one needs to not look into them like a peeping Tom but more like a lover of fine art. There is a scene in the latest version of Sabrina where Julia Ormond and Harrison Ford are standing very close to each other and she asks him who cuts his hair and reaches out and touches his hair. When she touches him you can hear his soft intake of breath. Romance isn't about heavy breathing but about a feeling that catches your breath and releases it in a contented sigh. In The Sound of Music (I know I already mentioned this movie in a blog but it was my first brush with a handsome man and romance and it left a lasting impression on my seven year-old mind) when Captain Von Trapp and Maria are outside in the gazebo and the Captain reveals his feelings for Maria, he puts his hand under her chin and lifts her face to his. Romance isn't a grab but a loving caress. In the Disney/Pixar movie UP it showed a relationship grow and mature into something sweet and beautiful and unforgettable. It showed two people becoming one. Romance isn't the heat of the moment but the warm glow of years together.
Romance is subtle but unmistakeable. It is gentle but heart-hitting strong. Romantic tables are set with candle light not spotlights. Romance makes idealized love attainable and makes forever love desirable. We can read romance novels or watch romantic movies but we can find romance in real life. Romance is uniquely expressed. Once when I commented how incredible it would be to be looked at in the way Mr. Darcy looked at Elizabeth, my husband ran across the room and gave me his best Mr. Darcy intense gaze. The gaze wasn't romantic, it made me giggle, but the gesture was very romantic. He did it to please me. Romance can be real if we make it real. It takes work and focus and graceful movement---kind of like dancing.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Of Women and Car Repairs
Last Friday I had to take our van into a Ford dealer to have a recall repair done. On the way I was feeling some nervous trepidation rising in me like wayward bile creeping up into my throat. You see I don't like to take my car in for repairs. I especially don't like going to Dealer service departments but I even get a bit tense at tire stores or jittery at Jiffy Lube. Why? Because first, I'm a woman. Second, I'm a woman who knows very little about how cars work and third, I had a bad experience with a Ford dealer back when I was short on cash, even shorter on life experience, and trying to make my little blue Pinto driveable again.
When I was a teenager my sister bought a brand new metallic blue Camaro and I was with her when she drove it off the showroom floor. We left in a beautiful haze of coolness. I always tried to convince her to let me drive it but she (probably wisely) never gave in. I do appreciate good looking vehicles and I enjoy riding in them but I have a pretty utilitarian attitude when it comes to cars. A car gets me from point A to point B. My eyes don't light up when I talk about how powerful an engine is and revving an engine doesn't bring on an adrenaline rush (that probably has something to do with the fact that my main car is an 8 year-old Toyota Corolla and my second car is a 12 year-old Ford Windstar---although I do like to fantasize about being a race car driver when I drive a stick-shift---) Being confident at the repair shop goes beyond knowing the names of car parts. When a man takes his car into a mechanic there is a silent understanding and respect. There is a certain body language spoken, a way of standing or nodding the head. Even if I were professionally disguised as a man and carefully studied and painstakingly duplicated all the nuances of male behavior I know that I would be immediately routed out as an imposter in a garage. Somewhere an invisible meter measuring maleness would be indicating testosterone levels in an unacceptable range and a silent warning would be sounded. Even men who know little about cars seem to fit in better than women in any auto service-related business. I am not man-bashing here. It is just the way things are...like most men have a hard time feeling comfortable when they find themselves sent to the store to purchase feminine supplies. They just don't understand terms like flow and wings used in that context.
I admire women who take the time to learn about the cars they drive. I do know how to check the oil and other vital fluids and put air in the tires and I can call my husband very quickly to ask questions but that is about the limit of my automobile prowess. I once had a young woman do an oil change on my car at Jiffy Lube. In a way I envied how comfortable she seemed in her coveralls. I would personally feel empowered if I owned a pair of oil-stained coveralls with my name on them and could look under the hood of a car, tighten this and that, and straighten up with a confident look on my grease-smudged face while wiping my hands casually on a big dirty rag in my back pocket(take a breath here)---and yet, I felt a little sorry for the young woman because it couldn't have been easy for her to be taken seriously in that work environment. I don't mean to sound sexist but when you take your car in for maintenance or repairs how many women do you see working beyond the reception area?
I think Auto Shop would be a great required companion class to Driver's Ed and a major prize should be awarded to anyone who reads his or her car repair manual. My husband can fix many car problems but he is limited on time and tools. People need mechanics and there are many skilled mechanics who need jobs. I have helped several of them put food on the table and sometimes I worry if I have sent some of them laughing all the way to the bank.
Which brings me to my eye-opening experience involving repairs on my Pinto...I had just had the transmission replaced by an independent mechanic but I needed to take it into the Ford dealer to have another problem diagnosed. They called to let me know that I needed new gaskets or something and that while they were at it, my transmission looked like it didn't have much life left. I remember it was difficult to respond with my mouth gaping open in shock. I tried to sound calm as I told them to just take care of the gaskets and I would think about replacing the transmission. I didn't know whether to scream or laugh hysterically. How dare they tell me that I needed a new transmission when I had had a new one put in just weeks before! I should try to think the best of people. Maybe there is no such thing as New Transmission Smell or maybe the transmission didn't have the price tag still on it---But this experience left me quite mistrustful of all dealer service departments and admittedly has made me a little paranoid, intimidated or unnecessarily defensive when it comes to getting my car fixed. (now and then I mutter things to myself like, ' So I don't know about O-rings but I bet he can't tell if bread dough is the right consistency just by feel') I think I perceive non-verbal pats on the head as I am trying to nod at the right times while trying to put my brain in full throttle and understand what I am being told is wrong with my car. Sometimes I feel like I have a flashing neon sign above my head that says, You Can Take Advantage Of This One.
To make a long story not too much longer, my recall trip to the Ford dealer was quick and painless and even better...paid for by Ford. I left feeling downright giddy! And in all fairness most of the mechanics I have dealt with have been very nice and honest. If they do shake their heads about how little I know about something I drive everyday they have the decency to do it when I am not watching. They do the work. I give them the money. We are both happy.
By the way, on my way to the dealership I saw a man walking to the side of the road just under the freeway overpass. He was wearing a kilt. He seemed quite comfortable with himself and I thought if a man can walk along a busy road wearing a skirt and act like it is the most natural thing in the world for a man to do then I can woman-up and take my car in for repairs without trepidation.
What scenes are passing by your car window?
When I was a teenager my sister bought a brand new metallic blue Camaro and I was with her when she drove it off the showroom floor. We left in a beautiful haze of coolness. I always tried to convince her to let me drive it but she (probably wisely) never gave in. I do appreciate good looking vehicles and I enjoy riding in them but I have a pretty utilitarian attitude when it comes to cars. A car gets me from point A to point B. My eyes don't light up when I talk about how powerful an engine is and revving an engine doesn't bring on an adrenaline rush (that probably has something to do with the fact that my main car is an 8 year-old Toyota Corolla and my second car is a 12 year-old Ford Windstar---although I do like to fantasize about being a race car driver when I drive a stick-shift---) Being confident at the repair shop goes beyond knowing the names of car parts. When a man takes his car into a mechanic there is a silent understanding and respect. There is a certain body language spoken, a way of standing or nodding the head. Even if I were professionally disguised as a man and carefully studied and painstakingly duplicated all the nuances of male behavior I know that I would be immediately routed out as an imposter in a garage. Somewhere an invisible meter measuring maleness would be indicating testosterone levels in an unacceptable range and a silent warning would be sounded. Even men who know little about cars seem to fit in better than women in any auto service-related business. I am not man-bashing here. It is just the way things are...like most men have a hard time feeling comfortable when they find themselves sent to the store to purchase feminine supplies. They just don't understand terms like flow and wings used in that context.
I admire women who take the time to learn about the cars they drive. I do know how to check the oil and other vital fluids and put air in the tires and I can call my husband very quickly to ask questions but that is about the limit of my automobile prowess. I once had a young woman do an oil change on my car at Jiffy Lube. In a way I envied how comfortable she seemed in her coveralls. I would personally feel empowered if I owned a pair of oil-stained coveralls with my name on them and could look under the hood of a car, tighten this and that, and straighten up with a confident look on my grease-smudged face while wiping my hands casually on a big dirty rag in my back pocket(take a breath here)---and yet, I felt a little sorry for the young woman because it couldn't have been easy for her to be taken seriously in that work environment. I don't mean to sound sexist but when you take your car in for maintenance or repairs how many women do you see working beyond the reception area?
I think Auto Shop would be a great required companion class to Driver's Ed and a major prize should be awarded to anyone who reads his or her car repair manual. My husband can fix many car problems but he is limited on time and tools. People need mechanics and there are many skilled mechanics who need jobs. I have helped several of them put food on the table and sometimes I worry if I have sent some of them laughing all the way to the bank.
Which brings me to my eye-opening experience involving repairs on my Pinto...I had just had the transmission replaced by an independent mechanic but I needed to take it into the Ford dealer to have another problem diagnosed. They called to let me know that I needed new gaskets or something and that while they were at it, my transmission looked like it didn't have much life left. I remember it was difficult to respond with my mouth gaping open in shock. I tried to sound calm as I told them to just take care of the gaskets and I would think about replacing the transmission. I didn't know whether to scream or laugh hysterically. How dare they tell me that I needed a new transmission when I had had a new one put in just weeks before! I should try to think the best of people. Maybe there is no such thing as New Transmission Smell or maybe the transmission didn't have the price tag still on it---But this experience left me quite mistrustful of all dealer service departments and admittedly has made me a little paranoid, intimidated or unnecessarily defensive when it comes to getting my car fixed. (now and then I mutter things to myself like, ' So I don't know about O-rings but I bet he can't tell if bread dough is the right consistency just by feel') I think I perceive non-verbal pats on the head as I am trying to nod at the right times while trying to put my brain in full throttle and understand what I am being told is wrong with my car. Sometimes I feel like I have a flashing neon sign above my head that says, You Can Take Advantage Of This One.
To make a long story not too much longer, my recall trip to the Ford dealer was quick and painless and even better...paid for by Ford. I left feeling downright giddy! And in all fairness most of the mechanics I have dealt with have been very nice and honest. If they do shake their heads about how little I know about something I drive everyday they have the decency to do it when I am not watching. They do the work. I give them the money. We are both happy.
By the way, on my way to the dealership I saw a man walking to the side of the road just under the freeway overpass. He was wearing a kilt. He seemed quite comfortable with himself and I thought if a man can walk along a busy road wearing a skirt and act like it is the most natural thing in the world for a man to do then I can woman-up and take my car in for repairs without trepidation.
What scenes are passing by your car window?
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Did Rapunzel Ever Want A New Hairstyle?
Many years ago my husband quoted part of a scripture to me to support his preference for long hair on women. The scripture talks about a woman's long hair being her glory. I think my husband is of the opinion the longer the hair the more the glory. Thank heavens he loves me even with short hair. (He also prefers my hair to be curly---right now it is on the short side and straight--poor man doesn't always get what he wants)
A woman's hair, long or short, is definitely a defining factor in her femininity. Hair is one of the main ways a woman exercises her well known prerogative to change her mind. A woman can curl her hair, straighten her hair, dye her hair, bleach her hair, streak or highlight, wave, crimp, or layer her hair. She can flip it up or curl it under, wear it up or down, grow it out or chop it off. Have you noticed that when a women cuts her hair short because she just couldn't stand it long anymore that it only takes a week at most before she is growing it out because she just can't do anything with it short? Hair is one thing a woman can change when she feels she can't change anything else.
I think women's hair stylists are under a lot of pressure. They are expected to be part counselor, part image consultant, and part fairy godmother. For years I would go to the beauty college---hair academy---(still do for perms) and to any fast food variety hair place that I had a coupon for but I always wanted a 'Hair Lady' to call my own. Now I have one. It is a bit pricey but uplifting. My mom always had a hair lady. When I was little her hair lady was named LaVon and my mom would even give her a present at Christmas. Then when we moved her hair lady was Janet. I went to Janet myself a few times. Janet even was there to do my mom's hair one last time to make her look her best for her viewing. I visited my aunt today in a care center. She has had a stroke and she is on hospice care but last week for her birthday she had her hair colored and curled. It looked very nice and I could tell she was much happier having it done. A good Hair Lady or stylist can be a V.I.P. in a woman's life.
I can go for quite a while just getting the occasional trim but when I am ready for a change watch out, because...
I want something different, something that looks youthful but doesn't make it look like I am trying too hard to be youthful, something sassy but sophisticated, something with pizazz but is still classic, something versatile that will look good when I am dressed up (usually dressy translates into Sunday best) or dressed casually (usually translates into jeans all the other days of the week), something that has shape and structure but doesn't look like protective headgear but yet something that is tousled looking so people can't tell if it's messed up----and of course it needs to be something I can style in 5 or 10 minutes because spending too long on my hair causes me anxiety and my skill with a round brush ranks right up there with my skill with a blow torch. (Actually I think I have only used a blow torch to light a sparkler. It was kind of dangerously fun but I don't think it would be wise for me to explore other uses)
I am thankful to my hairstylist for listening patiently to my list of wants and frustrations and for looking at the pictures I take in with me sometimes. She gives great scalp massages and soothing neck rubs with each shampoo and she is really good at transforming what I say I think I want into a hairstyle that works for me. I have a friend in her nineties who in response to compliments on how nice her hair looks always says, "Thanks. I washed it." When it comes to hair, small changes can bring big results. I always feel better when I leave the Hair salon because someone has listened to me and played with my hair. I thoroughly enjoy my hair the day I get it done before I have to face duplicating the style myself!
Sometimes a woman's hair can make or break her day. I have a very good friend who started Chemotherapy yesterday. She is faced with soon losing all of her hair. I know I have heard women say that they are tempted to shave their heads because they can't do a thing with their hair. A woman who is bald by choice is hard to find. As much as we sometimes stress and obsess about our hair not one of us would want to lose it by the hand full. I have had nightmares about that. My friend will be focused on fighting cancer and on healing. Good hair days will lose their importance. Hopefully she will have fun hats and scarves to choose from and that when her hair grows back it will be even more manageable, cooperative, and luxurious than before. We learn in the scriptures that the Lord knows the number of hairs on our head and I think when a woman loses her hair that the Lord knows the number of tears she sheds and helps her carry her grief. My friend is a woman of faith and although her head will be bare she will be covered and sheltered by the comfort of the Lord. When I see a woman who has a bald head peeking out of a scarf or a hat and who is bravely facing what stares come her way I see a beauty that comes from courage and that runs much deeper than a nice head of hair.
Are you having a good hair day?
A woman's hair, long or short, is definitely a defining factor in her femininity. Hair is one of the main ways a woman exercises her well known prerogative to change her mind. A woman can curl her hair, straighten her hair, dye her hair, bleach her hair, streak or highlight, wave, crimp, or layer her hair. She can flip it up or curl it under, wear it up or down, grow it out or chop it off. Have you noticed that when a women cuts her hair short because she just couldn't stand it long anymore that it only takes a week at most before she is growing it out because she just can't do anything with it short? Hair is one thing a woman can change when she feels she can't change anything else.
I think women's hair stylists are under a lot of pressure. They are expected to be part counselor, part image consultant, and part fairy godmother. For years I would go to the beauty college---hair academy---(still do for perms) and to any fast food variety hair place that I had a coupon for but I always wanted a 'Hair Lady' to call my own. Now I have one. It is a bit pricey but uplifting. My mom always had a hair lady. When I was little her hair lady was named LaVon and my mom would even give her a present at Christmas. Then when we moved her hair lady was Janet. I went to Janet myself a few times. Janet even was there to do my mom's hair one last time to make her look her best for her viewing. I visited my aunt today in a care center. She has had a stroke and she is on hospice care but last week for her birthday she had her hair colored and curled. It looked very nice and I could tell she was much happier having it done. A good Hair Lady or stylist can be a V.I.P. in a woman's life.
I can go for quite a while just getting the occasional trim but when I am ready for a change watch out, because...
I want something different, something that looks youthful but doesn't make it look like I am trying too hard to be youthful, something sassy but sophisticated, something with pizazz but is still classic, something versatile that will look good when I am dressed up (usually dressy translates into Sunday best) or dressed casually (usually translates into jeans all the other days of the week), something that has shape and structure but doesn't look like protective headgear but yet something that is tousled looking so people can't tell if it's messed up----and of course it needs to be something I can style in 5 or 10 minutes because spending too long on my hair causes me anxiety and my skill with a round brush ranks right up there with my skill with a blow torch. (Actually I think I have only used a blow torch to light a sparkler. It was kind of dangerously fun but I don't think it would be wise for me to explore other uses)
I am thankful to my hairstylist for listening patiently to my list of wants and frustrations and for looking at the pictures I take in with me sometimes. She gives great scalp massages and soothing neck rubs with each shampoo and she is really good at transforming what I say I think I want into a hairstyle that works for me. I have a friend in her nineties who in response to compliments on how nice her hair looks always says, "Thanks. I washed it." When it comes to hair, small changes can bring big results. I always feel better when I leave the Hair salon because someone has listened to me and played with my hair. I thoroughly enjoy my hair the day I get it done before I have to face duplicating the style myself!
Sometimes a woman's hair can make or break her day. I have a very good friend who started Chemotherapy yesterday. She is faced with soon losing all of her hair. I know I have heard women say that they are tempted to shave their heads because they can't do a thing with their hair. A woman who is bald by choice is hard to find. As much as we sometimes stress and obsess about our hair not one of us would want to lose it by the hand full. I have had nightmares about that. My friend will be focused on fighting cancer and on healing. Good hair days will lose their importance. Hopefully she will have fun hats and scarves to choose from and that when her hair grows back it will be even more manageable, cooperative, and luxurious than before. We learn in the scriptures that the Lord knows the number of hairs on our head and I think when a woman loses her hair that the Lord knows the number of tears she sheds and helps her carry her grief. My friend is a woman of faith and although her head will be bare she will be covered and sheltered by the comfort of the Lord. When I see a woman who has a bald head peeking out of a scarf or a hat and who is bravely facing what stares come her way I see a beauty that comes from courage and that runs much deeper than a nice head of hair.
Are you having a good hair day?
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Have you ever felt like a crush-test dummy?
One of my two youngest daughters was talking with me this weekend about a crush she has on someone at school...actually both of my single daughters have crushes right now. My daughter just couldn't stop thinking about a certain young man and that had her feeling a little crazy. I think in the case of a crush that your heart locks your brain in a room and while giving it very little nourishment and no exercise or fresh air forces it to focus on everything it knows about one person. The heart forces the brain to remember every detail about the slightest interaction. Was he staring at you or did you have something in your teeth? Was that a smile in your direction or a nervous tic? Was that a look of possible admiration or mild irritation? The interrogation is relentless and exhausting. Your body is on auto-pilot during your brain's captivity and you walk around dazed and confused.
A term caught my attention in the dictionary a couple of weeks ago. The term is crumple zone. I would have thought it referred to the part of your shirt or dress or skirt that wrinkles when you sit down but it refers to "a part of a motor vehicle, esp. the extreme front and rear, designed to crumple easily in a crash and absorb the main force of an impact".
Perhaps our hearts have crumple zones. Just change motor vehicle to human heart, crash to crush, and insert infatuation in front of impact. The really interesting thing is that the word crush is on the same page as crumple zone in my dictionary and its main definition has to do with squeezing and force and injury. Our hearts would need some type of protection during those impetuous and passionate years of our youth when we begin seriously searching for that person who makes us whole---who makes it past the crumple zone and impacts our heart in a way we hadn't imagined. Crushes leave little scratches and dents on our hearts that cause some grief but can be hammered out. First loves can cause more serious damage and leave our hearts limping along, barely driveable, but your heart can be made better than new by 'the real thing'. (True love not Coke)
I remember the first man that registered as handsome to me was Chistopher Plummer in The Sound of Music. He had chisled features and twinkly eyes. I was all of seven when the movie came out but I knew that the way he looked at Maria was something truly special. I moved on to a crush on a boy in my sixth grade class who had a nice smile and was smart and said funny things. He signed my dance card for the Sixth Grade Dance and I was so excited...but the dance got cancelled---my heart's first fender-bender. After that I ran into sweet feelings for a boy in my 8th grade Geography class who treated me nicely and made me feel special...his girlfriend didn't seem so nice---I was disappointed , puzzled, and well...a little crushed. After that there were crushes on more movie stars and teen heartthrobs, teachers, and co-workers. Then of course there was first love...the boy I thought was my first love, I realized later that my husband was my real first love. I was having a hard time remembering what my crushes really felt like and I thought it was because I am getting old but I think it is really because now that my heart has felt the impact of true (notice I didn't say 'real' because crushes do involve real feelings) love that the crushes only left behind small scratches in comparison that are hardly noticeable anymore. Most of the stories behind the scratches bring gentle smiles at most.
Crushes are quick thrill rides that prepare our hearts for longer more meaningful journeys. They can be truly exciting and exhilarating but they usually come and go. Your heart can feel the power of being in charge but it needs to be a kind captor and let your brain see the light of day now and then.
What do you see up ahead?
A term caught my attention in the dictionary a couple of weeks ago. The term is crumple zone. I would have thought it referred to the part of your shirt or dress or skirt that wrinkles when you sit down but it refers to "a part of a motor vehicle, esp. the extreme front and rear, designed to crumple easily in a crash and absorb the main force of an impact".
Perhaps our hearts have crumple zones. Just change motor vehicle to human heart, crash to crush, and insert infatuation in front of impact. The really interesting thing is that the word crush is on the same page as crumple zone in my dictionary and its main definition has to do with squeezing and force and injury. Our hearts would need some type of protection during those impetuous and passionate years of our youth when we begin seriously searching for that person who makes us whole---who makes it past the crumple zone and impacts our heart in a way we hadn't imagined. Crushes leave little scratches and dents on our hearts that cause some grief but can be hammered out. First loves can cause more serious damage and leave our hearts limping along, barely driveable, but your heart can be made better than new by 'the real thing'. (True love not Coke)
I remember the first man that registered as handsome to me was Chistopher Plummer in The Sound of Music. He had chisled features and twinkly eyes. I was all of seven when the movie came out but I knew that the way he looked at Maria was something truly special. I moved on to a crush on a boy in my sixth grade class who had a nice smile and was smart and said funny things. He signed my dance card for the Sixth Grade Dance and I was so excited...but the dance got cancelled---my heart's first fender-bender. After that I ran into sweet feelings for a boy in my 8th grade Geography class who treated me nicely and made me feel special...his girlfriend didn't seem so nice---I was disappointed , puzzled, and well...a little crushed. After that there were crushes on more movie stars and teen heartthrobs, teachers, and co-workers. Then of course there was first love...the boy I thought was my first love, I realized later that my husband was my real first love. I was having a hard time remembering what my crushes really felt like and I thought it was because I am getting old but I think it is really because now that my heart has felt the impact of true (notice I didn't say 'real' because crushes do involve real feelings) love that the crushes only left behind small scratches in comparison that are hardly noticeable anymore. Most of the stories behind the scratches bring gentle smiles at most.
Crushes are quick thrill rides that prepare our hearts for longer more meaningful journeys. They can be truly exciting and exhilarating but they usually come and go. Your heart can feel the power of being in charge but it needs to be a kind captor and let your brain see the light of day now and then.
What do you see up ahead?
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Happy Easter
Lots of years ago I decided that watching the sun rise seemed a good way to celebrate Easter, the day many people celebrate the Son of God rising from the grave. I don't make it every year. Sometimes I am just too tired, other times the weather doesn't cooperate, but I have a desire to do it every Easter. Most of the time I dress warmly and watch from my east-facing porch but there have been times when I have watched through my living room window. One year two of my daughters joined me and we startled our newspaper carrier. He didn't expect to see three people wrapped in blankets sitting on the porch that early on a Sunday morning! (He probably thought we sure were anxious to read the latest news)
Watching the sun rise can be a very spiritual experience. It takes a lot more time than I would have guessed. There is a long prelude to the sunrise when the sky starts to lighten just a bit and the birds start to greet the day with a few solos that soon blend into a chorus. I love to see the sun rise over the mountains. I try and guess where it will appear. As the sky lightens the mountains take shape as the shadows pull away. There is a great deal of anticipation as the sky grows lighter and the mountains come into focus and the birds sing louder. The buildup is long but finally you can see just a little bit of the sun and suddenly it's up and you have to look away. I remember the first time I watched the sun rise on Easter morning I was reminded of giving birth. That feeling of waiting and anticipating, the baby's head crowning, that joyous feeling when a child enters mortality...and suddenly the baby is in your arms and your eyes are filled with tears but you can't look away because it is all so incredible.
The sunrise is a truly amazing experience. When you think of how powerful the sun is and how vital it is to our existence, when you think of how complex our brains are and how we are able to see the sun and feel it's warmth and hear the birds announce a new day. So much depends on the rising of the sun and yet we sometimes sleep through the event or hardly give it a thought. It isn't hard to see why we human beings can fail to see miracles.
A hymn that comes into my mind even before Easter is Christ the Lord is Risen Today. I remember playing it on the stereo one day and stopping to sing it out loud and strong with the MormonTabernacle Choir. I felt joy in my whole being, a joy I didn't fully comprehend but I joy that I knew it was right to feel. I believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God and that he lived his life to teach us how to make our way back to our heavenly home to live with our Heavenly Father. I believe he took upon himself our sins to pay the price so that we could through repentance live with God again. He was the only one who could pay that price. I believe he not only suffered under the incomprehensible weight of all the sins of mankind but that he also felt our fears, our sorrows, our doubts, our griefs, and every pain that we can feel so that we are not alone in our suffering. He understands. I believe he willingly gave his life on the cross. I believe he rose from the tomb and overcame death so that we too can rise again. He did all of these things out of a pure love for his father and a willingness to obey, and out of a pure and unconditional love for each one of us. God our Father and his son Jesus Christ our brother and redeemer want our happiness. This I know.
Can you imagine what it must have been like for the disciples of Jesus after serving with him and listening to him teach and watching him perform miracles and having him wash their feet, to see him tormented and mocked and crucified and sealed in a tomb and then to see that tomb empty? Can you imagine what it would have been like to be there and to see him standing before you again and to touch the nail prints in his hands and in his feet and the wound in his side? Can you imagine what you would feel in your heart?
Even people who don't believe in God or who do not believe that Jesus is the Christ cannot deny the renewal of the earth this time of year. The grass that was dead grows greener each day, the bare branches of the trees have tender buds, flowers bloom out of earth that was cold and hard...Everywhere you look there is an empty tomb. Alma, a prophet in the Book of Mormon, said, "All things denote there is a God". Spring brings new life and hope of continued life. The rising sun brings hope of a new day filled with promise. The rising of the Son of God brings hope of endless days and eternal happiness.
I highly recommend watching the sun rise. If you can't see it, you can hear the birds greet it, if you can't hear the birds, you can feel the sun on your face and be closer to it than you think.
Happy Easter! I hope the view from your window is one of new life.
Watching the sun rise can be a very spiritual experience. It takes a lot more time than I would have guessed. There is a long prelude to the sunrise when the sky starts to lighten just a bit and the birds start to greet the day with a few solos that soon blend into a chorus. I love to see the sun rise over the mountains. I try and guess where it will appear. As the sky lightens the mountains take shape as the shadows pull away. There is a great deal of anticipation as the sky grows lighter and the mountains come into focus and the birds sing louder. The buildup is long but finally you can see just a little bit of the sun and suddenly it's up and you have to look away. I remember the first time I watched the sun rise on Easter morning I was reminded of giving birth. That feeling of waiting and anticipating, the baby's head crowning, that joyous feeling when a child enters mortality...and suddenly the baby is in your arms and your eyes are filled with tears but you can't look away because it is all so incredible.
The sunrise is a truly amazing experience. When you think of how powerful the sun is and how vital it is to our existence, when you think of how complex our brains are and how we are able to see the sun and feel it's warmth and hear the birds announce a new day. So much depends on the rising of the sun and yet we sometimes sleep through the event or hardly give it a thought. It isn't hard to see why we human beings can fail to see miracles.
A hymn that comes into my mind even before Easter is Christ the Lord is Risen Today. I remember playing it on the stereo one day and stopping to sing it out loud and strong with the MormonTabernacle Choir. I felt joy in my whole being, a joy I didn't fully comprehend but I joy that I knew it was right to feel. I believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God and that he lived his life to teach us how to make our way back to our heavenly home to live with our Heavenly Father. I believe he took upon himself our sins to pay the price so that we could through repentance live with God again. He was the only one who could pay that price. I believe he not only suffered under the incomprehensible weight of all the sins of mankind but that he also felt our fears, our sorrows, our doubts, our griefs, and every pain that we can feel so that we are not alone in our suffering. He understands. I believe he willingly gave his life on the cross. I believe he rose from the tomb and overcame death so that we too can rise again. He did all of these things out of a pure love for his father and a willingness to obey, and out of a pure and unconditional love for each one of us. God our Father and his son Jesus Christ our brother and redeemer want our happiness. This I know.
Can you imagine what it must have been like for the disciples of Jesus after serving with him and listening to him teach and watching him perform miracles and having him wash their feet, to see him tormented and mocked and crucified and sealed in a tomb and then to see that tomb empty? Can you imagine what it would have been like to be there and to see him standing before you again and to touch the nail prints in his hands and in his feet and the wound in his side? Can you imagine what you would feel in your heart?
Even people who don't believe in God or who do not believe that Jesus is the Christ cannot deny the renewal of the earth this time of year. The grass that was dead grows greener each day, the bare branches of the trees have tender buds, flowers bloom out of earth that was cold and hard...Everywhere you look there is an empty tomb. Alma, a prophet in the Book of Mormon, said, "All things denote there is a God". Spring brings new life and hope of continued life. The rising sun brings hope of a new day filled with promise. The rising of the Son of God brings hope of endless days and eternal happiness.
I highly recommend watching the sun rise. If you can't see it, you can hear the birds greet it, if you can't hear the birds, you can feel the sun on your face and be closer to it than you think.
Happy Easter! I hope the view from your window is one of new life.
The Reality of Fools and Wisdom Teeth
I missed writing on April Fool's day and yesterday which could indicate I was busy having an extended celebration. However, my daughter had her wisdom teeth out on April Fool's day so my focus was elsewhere. (Luckily oral surgeons don't bring pranks to work) A friend of mine was sharing memories on her blog of past April Fool's pranks she and her siblings would pull. It brought back a few memories of my own..
I would always try and scare my dad by putting a fake spider in his cup when he came home for lunch. One year I scared him, which was no easy feat, and I was very happy with myself. A few years after my husband and I were married I filled his lunch box with socks (I can't remember if they were clean or dirty) but I enclosed some lunch money at the bottom as a token of peace. I appreciate well planned and well executed April Fool's jokes but mine are not very elaborate. I stick with minor pranks rather than hoaxes because I am a lousy liar, which I guess is a good thing.
April Fool's day reminds me of hearing a man named Anthony Newly sing a song called What Kind of Fool am I. It was a song from a broadway production. Anthony Newly was a dramatically expressive performer who almost made it look like singing was excruciatingly painful. His song asks a good question...At times in my life I have been a stubborn fool, a crazy fool, a dancing fool, a darned fool, a lovesick fool, and even an April fool (also a May fool, a September fool...). Of course the fool I aim to be is nobody's fool.
When they brought my daughter out to the waiting area after having her wisdom teeth extracted I said something to the effect that she looked and sounded so cute with her squirrel-ready-for-winter gauze-packed cheeks I wanted to pinch her cheeks, but I wouldn't. Note to parents: If you ever want to say something embarrassing like this to your teenager, right after they have had oral surgery is the perfect time! They are too woozy to give you a proper eye-roll, they have difficulty speaking so they can't protest verbally, and they are fully aware that you are their caregiver for the next few days so they let it go. She is recovering nicely by the way.
Random Thoughts: I was reading a TV critic's column the other day and the subject was Survivor. I have never seen the show but the article got me thinking about 'reality' shows. In the time in which we live a lot of time, energy, and money is spent in trying to make things that aren't real look real so what effect does that have on things that are real? Does the boundary become blurred between virtual reality and reality? Does it make sense to take time out of our real lives to watch someone else's reality for entertainment? We do after all spend quite a bit of time watching or reading other people's fantasies. Are reality shows real? Sometimes I have read about reality shows and the phrase, 'get real' has come to mind. I have found myself watching some things or reading some things and thinking that I am glad that isn't my reality but in a way I have just made it part of my reality for a short time, haven't I? I think it was Plato that said we create our own reality, things are only real because we perceive them to be...I think I need a reality check. I like to spend a lot of time in my own little world and worlds that others create but the real world is pretty cool too...most of the time. It is fascinating to watch and even greater to take an active part in. It feels more...real that way.
How do you see things?
I would always try and scare my dad by putting a fake spider in his cup when he came home for lunch. One year I scared him, which was no easy feat, and I was very happy with myself. A few years after my husband and I were married I filled his lunch box with socks (I can't remember if they were clean or dirty) but I enclosed some lunch money at the bottom as a token of peace. I appreciate well planned and well executed April Fool's jokes but mine are not very elaborate. I stick with minor pranks rather than hoaxes because I am a lousy liar, which I guess is a good thing.
April Fool's day reminds me of hearing a man named Anthony Newly sing a song called What Kind of Fool am I. It was a song from a broadway production. Anthony Newly was a dramatically expressive performer who almost made it look like singing was excruciatingly painful. His song asks a good question...At times in my life I have been a stubborn fool, a crazy fool, a dancing fool, a darned fool, a lovesick fool, and even an April fool (also a May fool, a September fool...). Of course the fool I aim to be is nobody's fool.
When they brought my daughter out to the waiting area after having her wisdom teeth extracted I said something to the effect that she looked and sounded so cute with her squirrel-ready-for-winter gauze-packed cheeks I wanted to pinch her cheeks, but I wouldn't. Note to parents: If you ever want to say something embarrassing like this to your teenager, right after they have had oral surgery is the perfect time! They are too woozy to give you a proper eye-roll, they have difficulty speaking so they can't protest verbally, and they are fully aware that you are their caregiver for the next few days so they let it go. She is recovering nicely by the way.
Random Thoughts: I was reading a TV critic's column the other day and the subject was Survivor. I have never seen the show but the article got me thinking about 'reality' shows. In the time in which we live a lot of time, energy, and money is spent in trying to make things that aren't real look real so what effect does that have on things that are real? Does the boundary become blurred between virtual reality and reality? Does it make sense to take time out of our real lives to watch someone else's reality for entertainment? We do after all spend quite a bit of time watching or reading other people's fantasies. Are reality shows real? Sometimes I have read about reality shows and the phrase, 'get real' has come to mind. I have found myself watching some things or reading some things and thinking that I am glad that isn't my reality but in a way I have just made it part of my reality for a short time, haven't I? I think it was Plato that said we create our own reality, things are only real because we perceive them to be...I think I need a reality check. I like to spend a lot of time in my own little world and worlds that others create but the real world is pretty cool too...most of the time. It is fascinating to watch and even greater to take an active part in. It feels more...real that way.
How do you see things?
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