My Dad’s five sisters and my cousin arrived today. This is an event that everyone has been a bit nervous about I think. For just about every reason you can think of. Families always have baggage, no matter their size, but this one has about as much as its size can carry. I think at the core of the worry is that that baggage will outweigh the fact that they are family. And it’s a worthwhile worry, to be honest. But one I hope can get set aside. And so far it has been, thank goodness.
I scraped together some homemade chicken noodle soup for everyone after they arrived and even though it took everyone awhile to find their conversational footing, I think it’s all going to work out just fine. For my part, I cannot even begin to put into words how lovely it was to see all of them. Except for Aunt T, I haven’t seen the rest of them since Grandma’s funeral, which was five years ago. And so much has happened for everyone since then. Some of them have become grandmothers for the first time, some for the second or third. My cousin has gotten married. Some have changed jobs or moved or had other big life changes. And there is simply the passage of time for us all.
Even though these women were not always home and comfort for me, they are now. There was a time when my Grandmother had to force these women to be nice to me under her fury. But over the years, we’ve all softened to each other and realized the depth of our family is stronger than any misled and misguided grudge that may have existed once upon a time. Which is a good thing. Because if ever there was a time to come together, it’s now. In the face of my father’s, and their oldest brother’s, death. Now is the time for telling stories, remembering growing up together in the countryside of Nebraska, loved so very dearly by two amazing parents.
And I’ll be cooking my ass off, so at least I’ll be busy should things go to hell and a hand basket.
Showing posts with label home. Show all posts
Showing posts with label home. Show all posts
10/3/09
10/2/09 - Surface Cleaning
** Sorry!! I forgot to post this last night! **
So here is the problem with having house cleaning so far down my list of priorities: when a friend comes to visit and I realize my house is a hot mess, I have to run around like a chicken with its head cut off for an entire morning trying to make it look presentable.
I guess since we just don’t get many visitors that I forgot to look at my house occasionally as if I didn’t live there. Until this morning when lovely J and her sweet boy M were on their way to our house for lunch. And all I could see was dust and dirt and doggie foot prints and dirty dishes (hmmm, all of that starts with D, how interesting). So I whipped myself into a whirlwind and got things set back to order. Sort of. It was better than nothing.
But it also made me see the things that just are not on my radar from a day to day basis. Like the baseboards and the wreck they are. I mean we have lived in this house for 7 years now, and it wasn’t new when we moved in, so it is normal that it should start showing some well lived in wear and tear. Plus we have two whirligig children and three obnoxious dogs. But our baseboards are a mess. I’d like to rip them all out and put in new ones. Fresh, white ones with no dust or wood splinters. And the corners of many walls are chipped from being banged with swords and baby heads and wagons and blocks (and my mom’s wheelchair) that we really should patch up and re-paint.
There are just tons of things like that. And it is my head taking over and muttering a string of “oh my god she’s totally judging me for my baseboards and look at the dent in that wall from where The Boy slammed open the door and the sliding glass door is wrecked from the neurotic chocolate lab who scratches at it constantly and blah, blah, blah” whenever we have people over.
So what have I learned? Not to pay too close attention when I’m cleaning, obviously.
So here is the problem with having house cleaning so far down my list of priorities: when a friend comes to visit and I realize my house is a hot mess, I have to run around like a chicken with its head cut off for an entire morning trying to make it look presentable.
I guess since we just don’t get many visitors that I forgot to look at my house occasionally as if I didn’t live there. Until this morning when lovely J and her sweet boy M were on their way to our house for lunch. And all I could see was dust and dirt and doggie foot prints and dirty dishes (hmmm, all of that starts with D, how interesting). So I whipped myself into a whirlwind and got things set back to order. Sort of. It was better than nothing.
But it also made me see the things that just are not on my radar from a day to day basis. Like the baseboards and the wreck they are. I mean we have lived in this house for 7 years now, and it wasn’t new when we moved in, so it is normal that it should start showing some well lived in wear and tear. Plus we have two whirligig children and three obnoxious dogs. But our baseboards are a mess. I’d like to rip them all out and put in new ones. Fresh, white ones with no dust or wood splinters. And the corners of many walls are chipped from being banged with swords and baby heads and wagons and blocks (and my mom’s wheelchair) that we really should patch up and re-paint.
There are just tons of things like that. And it is my head taking over and muttering a string of “oh my god she’s totally judging me for my baseboards and look at the dent in that wall from where The Boy slammed open the door and the sliding glass door is wrecked from the neurotic chocolate lab who scratches at it constantly and blah, blah, blah” whenever we have people over.
So what have I learned? Not to pay too close attention when I’m cleaning, obviously.
3/30/09
3/28/09 - Going Home
Well this is it. Today we woke up at the usual time, did our energizing exercises and then sat in the closing circle. Had breakfast, stalled a whole bunch by chatting aimlessly and then finally filed out, got into our cars and started the trek home.
I found myself ready to go home, but just as nervous coming home as I was coming here. Nervous about re-entry. Nervous about the prospect of being overwhelmed and shutting back down after working my ass off for the past 5 days to open and trudge through all the crap I’ve stored up over the past many years.
But I am just going to stay rooted in the moment and keep breathing.
Here are some more notes from Joseph Goldstein’s talks:
Mental states, judgment, compassion, love etc arise in response to changing conditions – they do their job and they they’re gone. They are not “I.” If they really belonged to us then they would be amenable to our will – we would be able to command them. But they each only follow their own laws.
It’s always simpler to just feel the emotions or physical sensations then to struggle with them through denial or distraction. If there is an overabundance of tension or distraction do a check to see what’s there that you’re denying. Being in this place of denial also means you are not coming from a place of compassion.
Notice what happens when you are in a situation where someone is driving you crazy – how do you respond? Do lock down in tension and judgment? Or can you be aware of that person’s suffering and allow compassion to arise in response?
Ignorance is the cause of not letting in suffering, therefore shutting down compassion.
Satiating desire shores up our ability to close ourselves off to suffering on all levels – which also closes us off to compassion.
Happiness comes by letting it in rather than reaching for it.
Awareness allows us to transform ignorance into compassion.
When I get home I’m going to look up everything Joseph Goldstein has ever done and get my hands on it. I just love this guy.
I can’t wait to see my babies!!
I found myself ready to go home, but just as nervous coming home as I was coming here. Nervous about re-entry. Nervous about the prospect of being overwhelmed and shutting back down after working my ass off for the past 5 days to open and trudge through all the crap I’ve stored up over the past many years.
But I am just going to stay rooted in the moment and keep breathing.
Here are some more notes from Joseph Goldstein’s talks:
Mental states, judgment, compassion, love etc arise in response to changing conditions – they do their job and they they’re gone. They are not “I.” If they really belonged to us then they would be amenable to our will – we would be able to command them. But they each only follow their own laws.
It’s always simpler to just feel the emotions or physical sensations then to struggle with them through denial or distraction. If there is an overabundance of tension or distraction do a check to see what’s there that you’re denying. Being in this place of denial also means you are not coming from a place of compassion.
Notice what happens when you are in a situation where someone is driving you crazy – how do you respond? Do lock down in tension and judgment? Or can you be aware of that person’s suffering and allow compassion to arise in response?
Ignorance is the cause of not letting in suffering, therefore shutting down compassion.
Satiating desire shores up our ability to close ourselves off to suffering on all levels – which also closes us off to compassion.
Happiness comes by letting it in rather than reaching for it.
Awareness allows us to transform ignorance into compassion.
When I get home I’m going to look up everything Joseph Goldstein has ever done and get my hands on it. I just love this guy.
I can’t wait to see my babies!!
3/14/09
Coffee and Eggs
His eyes open to a still dark room and slowly pull focus onto the face of a small, blonde boy. His son is smiling as he tries to whisper a good morning and a plea to have some breakfast. He takes a deep breath and fights the urge to flip the covers back harshly. Instead he gingerly slips out from between the sheets and tip toes out of the room, sweat pants and socks in hand.
He is greeted in the kitchen by harsh lights and the burbling of the already on TV. His daughter greets him with a huge smile as he enters the room. He makes his way to the sink, dodging little hands trying to wrap themselves around his legs. He grabs the coffee pot, puts it in the sink to fill and reaches for his contact case simultaneously. As his contacts settle into place, he surveys the room and the scattered snack wrappers and overturned juice cups become clear.
Turning away from the disaster area, he spoons coffee beans into the grinder and turns it on wincing slightly as the loud whir cuts through the canned laughter emanating from the TV. He turns on the coffee pot and pulls down a small frying pan, sets it on the stove to heat and ambles over to the fridge to grab some eggs.
He sets breakfast in front of the kids and steals away to jump in the shower. As the almost too hot water pours over his head and into his eyes, he sighs and thinks about the day ahead. Out of the shower and back in the bedroom, he glances over at the bed, at the woman asleep there and smiles briefly before he rushes toward the door to head off the little feet pounding down the hall.
He herds the children back to the kitchen as he fills his travel mug with coffee and throws lunch into his bag. He makes his rounds giving kisses and hugs goodbye. Have a good day kiddos he calls over his shoulder and go wake your mama up as he heads to the garage.
He starts his car thinking only of coming back home.
He is greeted in the kitchen by harsh lights and the burbling of the already on TV. His daughter greets him with a huge smile as he enters the room. He makes his way to the sink, dodging little hands trying to wrap themselves around his legs. He grabs the coffee pot, puts it in the sink to fill and reaches for his contact case simultaneously. As his contacts settle into place, he surveys the room and the scattered snack wrappers and overturned juice cups become clear.
Turning away from the disaster area, he spoons coffee beans into the grinder and turns it on wincing slightly as the loud whir cuts through the canned laughter emanating from the TV. He turns on the coffee pot and pulls down a small frying pan, sets it on the stove to heat and ambles over to the fridge to grab some eggs.
He sets breakfast in front of the kids and steals away to jump in the shower. As the almost too hot water pours over his head and into his eyes, he sighs and thinks about the day ahead. Out of the shower and back in the bedroom, he glances over at the bed, at the woman asleep there and smiles briefly before he rushes toward the door to head off the little feet pounding down the hall.
He herds the children back to the kitchen as he fills his travel mug with coffee and throws lunch into his bag. He makes his rounds giving kisses and hugs goodbye. Have a good day kiddos he calls over his shoulder and go wake your mama up as he heads to the garage.
He starts his car thinking only of coming back home.
3/1/09
Home Sweet Home
I am having a strange, fickle, wistful sort of blah day. I had a brunch meeting this morning which was great and productive and yummy. Did some errands and thought I might go see a movie, but my timing was off and I couldn’t find parking near the art house theater, so I gave up on that. And just came home. Which probably wasn’t the greatest idea as I’m in a “please stay out of my space” kind of mood today.
I keep having the phrase “I want to go home” run through my head. It’s a relatively common occurrence. Has been since I was little. Whenever I’m feeling a bit lost or forlorn or well, pretty much anything uncomfortable, it’s the litany that I find running through my brain over and over and over again.
It can get pretty irritating actually. Especially when I am sitting on my couch at home and I can’t get my brain to shut the hell up. It’s been going on long enough that I know it really has nothing to do with where my couch is housed of course. Sometimes it’s a place, sometimes it’s an action and sometimes it’s a person. That’s usually the hardest one, when my home of the moment is a person. Because I usually feel like I’m imposing and you know, it’s probably hard to be someone else’s home, no matter how transient they may be.
Mostly I think it has to do with just wanting to be comfortable. Wanting to be comfortable in my own skin, wanting to be comfortable in my surroundings, wanting the comfort that comes when you arrive home. The place where you can be absolutely you, unabashedly and unapologetically without reserve. Where the colors don’t wash you out and the furniture is perfectly placed. That’s probably what I’m after more than anything.
And I know that there will come a day when I’ll feel at home no matter where I happen to be. When I can give myself permission to be unabashed about who I am regardless of context or mitigation. I know that day is coming. But until it gets here, I just want to go home.
I keep having the phrase “I want to go home” run through my head. It’s a relatively common occurrence. Has been since I was little. Whenever I’m feeling a bit lost or forlorn or well, pretty much anything uncomfortable, it’s the litany that I find running through my brain over and over and over again.
It can get pretty irritating actually. Especially when I am sitting on my couch at home and I can’t get my brain to shut the hell up. It’s been going on long enough that I know it really has nothing to do with where my couch is housed of course. Sometimes it’s a place, sometimes it’s an action and sometimes it’s a person. That’s usually the hardest one, when my home of the moment is a person. Because I usually feel like I’m imposing and you know, it’s probably hard to be someone else’s home, no matter how transient they may be.
Mostly I think it has to do with just wanting to be comfortable. Wanting to be comfortable in my own skin, wanting to be comfortable in my surroundings, wanting the comfort that comes when you arrive home. The place where you can be absolutely you, unabashedly and unapologetically without reserve. Where the colors don’t wash you out and the furniture is perfectly placed. That’s probably what I’m after more than anything.
And I know that there will come a day when I’ll feel at home no matter where I happen to be. When I can give myself permission to be unabashed about who I am regardless of context or mitigation. I know that day is coming. But until it gets here, I just want to go home.