I need a remind to not take myself so seriously 
listened to Jason Mraz’s I’m yours this morning as I prepared for the teaching day and this verse stuck out today:
I guess what I be saying is there ain’t no better reason
To rid yourself of vanities and just go with the seasons
It’s what we aim to do, our name is our virtue.
I wish you a love-filled and hopeful day!
Once an idea gets lodged in my brain, it is difficult for me to let it go. Last week I missed an opportunity to buy bunk beds with a trundle for $50. FIFTY dollars!!!! They were gorgeous. Homemade, stained, etc. Anyhoo, I then decided to hunt around Goodwill and Salvation Army for a bit. Just to see, you see.
There was nothing, but I found some other treasures. As I waited in line to purchase my finds, the woman in front of me labored to put her two items up on the counter. The clerk rang the items up and barked, “$1.07″ at the woman. The woman slowly unpinned her coin purse from the inside of her pocket, unzipped the purse and dumped her seven coins on the counter. She certainly did not have the money, and the clerk, quickly slide a few coins off the counter and gave the woman back the rest. With a gruffness that did not match the act of kindness, the clerk rang up the total, shut the drawer, and called, for the second time, another clerk to help the line piling up behind the woman struggling to pin her purse and pack her purchases in her canvas bag.
“Next!” the clerk shouted at me, though I was right in front of her, and I hurriedly placed my towels on the counter. The woman, muttering softly to herself about the newly acquired stocking and candy jar, packed up and started out the door.
Right there, I was reminded of how much Randy and I have. Not only do we have four walls that surrounds and protects our family, but we have a family. We have people to take care of us. We have people to check in on us when we are sick, or just down. We have employers that provide insurance for us so we can get the help we need for our family. We have so much that daily we take for granted.
I am thankful for the coins in my purse. I am thankful for a God that provides those coins and works through people to continue to provide for those who have less.
Today I have an opportunity to pause and remember all that we have in this country of wealth and plenty. Today I have an opportunity to remember what my family has done in order to make sure I was educated and provided for. Today I will remember both the kindness of the gruff clerk and the heart of the woman in front of me in line. Today I have an opportunity to give in order to help those with less. Today I have an opportunity to give in honor of my family and my friends.
My hope as we go into the holiday season is to seek out the red kettles and give away all my change. My hope is to look for ways to provide for others, using the talents I have. My hope is to take less, give more, and fill another’s coin purse.
Happy Thanksgiving.
So, I was asked to pick a winner for the recipient of a free copy of Banished. Yay! In this season of giving and thankfulness, I found it only appropriate to give openly of what we’re able. I wish we could do that more often, but learning to live within one’s means can bring a lot of inward focus. Along those lines, it just isn’t right to pick a single winner for Jules’ free book offer. All those who have commented on her post can have a free copy. Also, anyone who comments on her post by the end of today can have a free copy too! Party on folks. You can email Jules your preferred method of delivery and inscription, and she’ll get that to you.
I hope that we all take the time this season to think of those in need and dig into our pockets for a means to help. Drop that change in the Red Kettles…make a point to have a bill or two ready when you leave the store. If you don’t have it, don’t be afraid to say ‘hi’ and smile to the folks ringing the bells even if you have to walk right by. There should be no shame. Also, if you’re shopping from your computer, you can stop by the KTTC Weather Blog and throw a few online dollars in our online kettle.
In this house.
So Thanksgiving is coming up, papers are winding down, and I’m feeling pretty on top of the world. I have been working on the second book in the Return to the Garden Series and thought it might be fun to give away a copy of the first book.
If you are interested in receiving an autographed copy of Banished leave a comment about what you are thankful for this year and I will enter you in the drawing. I’ll close the drawing on Saturday and then have Randy, the birthday boy, draw the winner.
I’m pretty thankful that I have been given the opportunity to write, teach, live and love.
I haven’t been able to do much around the house over the course of the last two weeks because of my work schedule. It is starting to wear on me a little, or that may be the cold I’m getting, but the reality is that four weeks out of the school year are crazy for me. I can resent them, fear them, get agitated that simple things like sweeping the floor, research, or playing with the boys gets curbed for my students, but it doesn’t make the craziness go away.
This is their first process paper of the year, and they are freaking out. It requires a lot more thought to create an argument that they own. It is a new skill that they are grappling with, and next time it will get easier. Right now their heads are spinning and, truth be told, so is mine.
So, I just heard the familiar ping that indicates someone on pronto is beckoning me to answer a question, read a thesis, give feedback on an idea, or just to give moral support. The entire three hours I have been on has been partly bearable and perhaps enjoyable because of the Jack Johnson station at Pandora. Sigh, I heart pandora!
Owen gave up his binky this weekend. He didn’t want to, in fact he was so excited when he unearthed a “not broken one”on Sunday. Unfortunately it “broke” when I cut it off boiled it in water. He stomped around the house saying, “I’m so MAD! I’m so SAD!” to which I swooped him into my arms and proceeded to comfort him and tell him, “I know you are mad and sad, and that’s ok.”
this continued Saturday and Sunday, but he didn’t pitch much more of a fight. I’m not sure if he knew, deep down, it was time for the bink to go, or if he is more like Dug from Up. “SQUIRREL!”
Either way, I am proud of him. He says things like, ‘Well, hi old man!” and “Whoa, wait a second, mommy.” and my favorite, and Drew’s frustration is when Owen copies Drew’s, very animated and drawn out, “Oh. My. Gosh!” With each day going forward without a piece of plastic obstructing his speech, I’m hopeful his clarity of speech will formulate quicker.
We went to the neighborhood on Saturday. It is a part of our gym dedicated to the awesomeness of kid play. Owen played with another little boy for over a half an hour, smiled and giggled, and talked. He interacted with this little boy and they were best of friends when we left. His personality can really shine since he is out from behind that hunk o’ plastic goodness.
There are seasons, and this was the right season for that transition. It went surprisingly well, especially when compared to Drew’s. I am proud of that little bugger. He will pull his sad and fragile spirit together, tackle some other sad sack and become BFFs vi facebook the next day. Owen understands so much more than we have been able to give him credit for because of that pacificer.
Today he pulled me over to count to twenty. By no means was it perfect, but he was so proud of himself. My baby is growing up, and I’m okay with that. I see what is headed in on the horizon and I know I will be spending most of Owen’s teen years on my knees in prayer….shaking head….that kid is flirtatious, kind, funny, and….well…..ahhem, will learn to work a system, I’m sure, from his brother.
It is a bit rambly, this post, but it is like my Owen, a space cadet one hour and a crying ad sack the next. He is all over the board as a 3.35 year old, but his hugs are genuine and so are his words. Which will feed me forever.
Tough weekend? a little, but not much. A fulfilling weekend?
Indeed.
Around mile nine the importance of my life, my entire life, came into focus. It could be the adrenaline, it could be the cold, it could be a myriad of reasons, but it doesn’t matter the motivation, it is the outcome that matters.
I do a lot of stuff. I’ve talked about my inability to say no before, but underneath that “stuff” I haven’t been truly present. I’ve been in a fog of self loath. I couldn’t possibly do anything good enough, smart enough, or doggone enough for people to like me. I lived in a constant reminder of my short comings, pitfalls, and mistakes. Though I knew I was forgiven, I never forgave myself.
As I pounded out mile after mile, determined to finish running, to not walk more than the water stations, I realized that, indeed, I was doing this. I was doing this. There was a natural ebb and flow of costumed runners pushing the miles with me, and I felt the pulse of our sea pressing forward. I knew Pattie, the reason for this madness was in the sea and I felt such a surge of gratitude.
In that moment, that moment of clarity, tears fell, not from the cold, but for the reality of my life. I am living. For so long I didn’t feel my life, I went through motion after motion because….well, because people told me to.
At 18 I jumped out of a plane because Jason needed another person to complete the package deal. At 20 I declared my major, English over Theater, because I had 3 more credits in English. At 21 I moved to LA because Scoot asked me to. At 21 and 7 months I moved home, because I told myself to, heh. I have tended bar, mountain biked, snowboarded, worked for a big music company in LA, sold my car (which pissed off my dad J), moved and found a job in Colorado within a week’s time, went back for my teaching certificate, worked in inner city schools, rural schools, and in between schools. I have met and maintained amazing friendships across the country. I have co-authored a book, married my best friend, have two amazing boys who truly are the extension of my best. I teach AP Lit and Comp, lead a small group, make kick ass bread, lead VBS drama, ran a triathlon (sprint), and you know what I am doing this December? Playing Mary in our church musical…MARY.
Pound. Pound. Pound.
Mile ten passes me by and only 3 remain. I am in this euphoric state where I can say, “I have lived. I have frickin’ lived! It isn’t that I looked to death or an escape, but in that breath and thought a new wave of awareness poured over me and I knew, I knew, that the plan was bigger than me, I merely am a vessel, and when I am open to the world, the world gives opportunity after opportunity.
I have lived to say I ran a 1/2marathon and have done so much more, not because I am arrogantly attached to all those events, but it puts the tragic and heart breaking events in perspective. It reminds me that true living involves being present. There is little past when living….just enough to give reference, but the truth, the truth of this life is God’s undeniable faith and love in me.
This run taught me that I am worth the goodness of this world. And the three boys who greeted me at the end proved it over and over and over. When the announcer said my name as I crossed the finish line I thought of Paul when he tells Timothy that, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.”
And that is what living is all about.
So please go read and comment
Thanks all!
Oh word press how I have missed you. Where have I been? Under the guns of H1N1, who has nastily held us and daycare hostage. Running a ½ marathon, this just makes me happy beyond reason. Finishing up the first quarter at school. Going to conferences. Figuring out this whole next step with book writing. Writing for Midwest Parents (go check those posts out – good stuff!) Checking in on Fb friends (hey, I can’t lie). And really, just breathing and looking around for a moment. There is so much to share. There is so much to say, but, alas, I’m not sure where to begin, so I will begin where I am.
I love Dunn Brothers. It is here that massive amounts of Banished was both conceived and revised. It is here that book two has started to take shape. It is here, with classical music, beans grinding, espresso machines singing, and people chatting and typing that creativity has been spurred. It doesn’t take long for me to get into my writing routine, plug in computer and start up, go and get a French latte or a seasonal yummy, come back, unpack and spread out all over table, kick off birks and start to type. I love it. LOVE it. It is my place only second to the library.
Here I am, restarting the posts. Restarting the chugging engine of my mind. Restarting the necessary love of fingers on keyboard. Restarting and returning.
We return to so many places, but with the side journeys we are a bit different, and yet the same. Which reminds me of Cavafy’s Ithaka. He seems to chastise Odysseus a bit. He jabs at him and reminds him that the journey is meant to return us home. Home to our souls and spirits – the place we begin and end with energy, life, and love. The journey delivers us home, and we should be changed, we should see the world a bit differently and we should breathe deep and leave again. It is fluid, this world. There are few true end stops, but so many pauses.
I’ve been in a pause. I wonderful one that has been breathtaking, and now I’m in my Ithaka – I’m home until the next time.
ITHAKA
Constantine P. Cavafy
As you set out for Ithaka
hope your road is a long one,
full of adventure, full of discovery.
Laistrygonians, Cyclops,
angry Poseidon-don’t be afraid of them:
you’ll never find the things like that on your way
as long as you keep thoughts raised high,
as long as a rare excitement
stirs your spirit and your body.
Laistrygonians, Cyclops,
wild Poseidon-you won’t encounter them
unless you bring them along inside your soul,
unless your soul sets them up in front of you.
Hope your road is a long one.
May there be many summer mornings when,
with what pleasure, what joy,
you enter harbors you’re seeing for the first time;
may you stop at Phoenician trading stations
to buy fine things,
mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony.
sensual perfume of every kind-
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
and may you visit many Egyptian cities
to learn and go on learning from their scholars.
Keep Ithaka always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you’re destined for.
But don’t hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so you’re old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you’ve gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.
Ithaka gave you the marvelous journey.
Without her you wouldn’t have set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.
And if you find her poor, Ithaka won’t have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
you’ll have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.
