ARE YOU A GLEANER?

[I find myself in a quasi-philosophical mood lately. Must be all the days I've spent at home--not cabin fever, just home alone with my thoughts and musings and projects. With the new month just opening up for us, I wanted something to help us think beyond the weather, how much winter is left for us, and how we're coping while waiting for spring. After all, we can think about that all on our own, can't we? Today, let's consider how we look at life in general. Ready? By the way, this post appeared a few years back, but it's timely again. How about that!]

I owe thanks to CurtissAnn Matlock for the metaphor and image of "gleanings"--she often shares on her blog gleanings from her reading (which is rich and various).

The gleanings I'm interested in today are from our life experiences--what kinds of wise words or supportive philosophies or helpful hints have you gathered and used and shared?

The idea comes--in my reading--from Heather Lende, whose book Find the Good, came about because her publisher wanted her to share her experiences as a writer of obituaries--what last words did she hear from people she talked to prior to their death?

Heather Lende writes that her approach was to think of what message she herself would want to leave with her loved ones--what words did she believe would sustain them throughout their lives? She came up with: Find the good. And that became the title of her book.

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For the past 40 or more years we've been bombarded with sound bites. You remember--those little catch-phrases that attempt to summarize a huge idea in a few pithy words. No need to go into detail--the phrase brings it all to life. "Go with the flow." "Think big." "Make a difference."

Without getting too picky, I'll just say that each of those is good as far as it goes. But think about it--Go with the flow? Easy to do. Pretty soon you're not thinking on your own at all. It's all flow. And you know what they say about water--it seeks its lowest level. The flow is, sorry to say, all downhill.

Think big. Hmm. Okay. I know some folks who think big. They're no good a-tall at detail because their ideas, their projects, their visions, are above and beyond anything as mundane as the details. (And before you say it--remember, it's not only the devil who's in the details. God is also.)

Make a difference. Now that sounds like a keeper. In my thinking, the word good is implied in that sentence, as in Make a good difference. Make things better than they are. However--you knew there was a however, didn't you?--however! What if your idea of what makes a good difference isn't the same as, say, your partner's? Or your mother's? Or your best friend's? Or your neighbor's? Does "make a difference" as a working philosophy grant you the right or the obligation to change something to please yourself?

Apparently it all comes back to our basic sense of what's right, or good, or appropriate.

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Here are some that I've come up with in my search for examples:

--Be kind.
--Treat others as you want to be treated.
--Forgive and forget.
--Put yourself in the other person's place.

If you think these have a Biblical ring, you're right. In different words and phrases, you'll find them in many of the New Testament teachings. And I have no doubt they're part of the teachings of many religions.

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When it comes right down to it, all these "words to live by" are just words, right? And they'll remain just words until you seize on one (or more) and embrace that set of words for your personal approach to life.

One day you may find your chosen phrase no longer works. Nobody guarantees these are set in stone, or that they'll sustain you all your days. You change, you grow; your life takes a turn you didn't expect; you come up against a problem you thought you'd never, ever, have to face. So keep gleaning. Help is everywhere.

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Recently the president of our county board of commissioners was quoted in the newspaper about a contentious situation. His approach: "Make one step forward." The story was more involved than that, but the essence was in that one piece of advice.

I've adopted that phrase. For today, I can make one step forward. I do not look to see if I am also going to take two steps back. That is not implied in "one step forward." 

Some days, I'll make no steps at all, in any direction. But my intention is: one step forward.

Forward is forward....

 THE BIG RESTART

January seems to be designated the time to Restart! 

[from Carolyn Tyger]

Restart your hobbies. Restart your regular activities.Restart your exercise program. Restart your life, even.

Every website I visit to learn about watercolor painting has one or more tutorials on how to get started again--the assumption being that we all took time off to celebrate the holidays and forgot all about our previously all-consuming interests.

Really?

I'll grant you: lots of folks go all out with decorating, entertaining, attending programs. And before they even got to that point, they dished out energy in tracking down that elusive "perfect" gift for You Know Who. 

Then there were all the things that had to be done before the arrival of whatever holiday was being celebrated: colored lights to be tested, possibly replaced; dinnerware that always graced the table for the holiday meal(s); candelabra polished; housecleaning or rearranging to accommodate family and guests who needed shelter during the season.

Shopping wasn't confined to gifts--there was also the search for ingredients (sometimes also elusive) to make Uncle Josiah's favorite holiday pudding. And woe betide the shopkeeper who no longer sold that one special addition to the mix--even if he said the company no longer made it so he couldn't order it even if he wanted to.

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As you can see--enormous amounts of energy could have been expended beginning 'way back in the autumn and continuing on into the new year. (In case you haven't experienced it, the energy drain takes on a life of its own; by New Year's Day, some folks have no bandwidth for what we used to call Normal Life Activities.)

Losing our bandwidth can create its own set of difficulties:

• forgetting how to manage the normal 24 hours per day we've always had
• losing track of simple stuff: how to make microwave popcorn without incinerating it, how long to allow for instant oatmeal so it doesn't turn into super glue, the process for thawing a frozen chicken/turkey/roast safely
• finding a bag of frozen vegetables ("it's gotta be here somewhere")

You get the idea.

So I can understand the thinking behind all the "let's get a new start" tutorials. The underlying assumption is: We've all been straining our brains and resources doing Other Stuff--we've forgotten how to organize a painting/quilt/family meal.

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Here's what I've learned by watching those tutorials:

• start small--allow 5 minutes, or 10, or maybe even 15; do the simplest part first
• start simple--no big projects, no complex designs, no 15-ingredient recipes or king-size quilts (Think: Less is More)
• when the 5/10/15-minute segments began to feel tedious, add a few more minutes
• when we get to the point we can feel our muscle memory returning and our mental acuity clicks on, we're probably ready to tackle the normal whatever-it-was we thought we'd lost

We could call it warming up the engine before starting out.

Or finding the thread again that we had to let go of when life got Too Busy.

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Two things to remember:

1. Restarting is NOT Starting from Scratch.
2. You didn't forget or lose all the experience and knowledge you  had before you took a break.
3. Okay, one more thing: Restarting is a process. Doesn't happen in a day, or a week--certainly not in an hour or two. Just go with it. You'll get there.

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I wish you well in getting your groove back. You're in good company, even if your friends won't admit they have the same situation. 

And if you want to change your habits--ideal time to begin! Just remember: start small and  let it build.

Up here in my neighborhood it's a snowy winter day. Going out might be optional. Good time to get a new start!

Blessings,

Thursday's Child

 IS IT A NEW YEAR?

[This post, published a couple or three years ago, still works for me. Hope it speaks to you also. I've changed a few things, like dates, so we don't confuse ourselves.]

We've flipped the page, maybe bought a whole new calendar.

Is it really new? Be honest--are you making radical changes in your life? In your goals? In your home/job/family/activities?

So what's really new in your life about this new year?

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Many years ago I was introduced to the idea of "living intentionally." This was a new way of looking at my life--and it opened up for me the act of choosing, of acting, instead of having things chosen for me, of being acted upon.

A few years ago I blogged about New Year's Intentions--some people call them resolutions, others use the word goals.

The tradition of choosing those intentions or resolutions or goals centers around January 1st, when we enter into a new year. But it doesn't harm me if I change my intentions partway through the calendar's page-turning. 

Trying a new intention--let's say, learning to play tennis--might turn out to be the worst possible choice I could make. In a few lessons I will no doubt learn that my ankles are weak (always have been), I can't move fast enough to return the serve (moving fast went away some years back), and my forehand is inhibited by tendinitis and arthritis in my right (dominant) arm. 

Those physical limitations don't prohibit me from learning about tennis, watching it in the Olympic games and tournaments, even, perhaps, writing about it, once I understand what I'm talking about.

The lesson for me is this: Just because I say I want to do something, to accomplish a goal, to dedicate my life to X, Y, or Z, doesn't mean it will be possible. But a modification of the goal, a change in perception, may work to my advantage. I'll still have weak ankles, but I can appreciate the agility and beauty of movement of the Olympic stars.

And a corollary to that lesson goes like this: If I don't live intentionally, I'll drift; so I better think about what intentions would be good to cultivate.

For me, those intentions run along certain lines, such as:

--using the gifts I've been given for good
--being alert to possibilities for serving 
--examining my life--Am I kind to others? Do I forgive easily? Do I show I care?
--listening more, talking less
--praying more
--being open to new ideas, new ways of doing things

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I don't have any sage (or otherwise) advice for you. But I will share this: Part of the joy of setting those intentions or goals comes during the journey, the searching for what fulfills your idea of yourself and what you want your life to look like.

Just remember--none of our thoughts and actions and intentions are set in stone. If a re-think shows you a better way, give it a whirl.

Hope your new year is a happy one--healthy, full of abundance and joy, and alive with whatever is new for you!

Blessings,

Thursday's Child

 THE POWER OF THE MAILBOX

[This first appeared some years ago, but it's still all true--I adore my mailbox and all the things that come to me. Yes, I know some of them will end up in the recycling bin, but there are always nuggets that warm my heart.]

January is birthday month for me, so I'm pretty interested in the mailbox. Is that a package the carrier is delivering here? What about that sheaf of envelopes--birthday cards, maybe?

It's too early, but I can't help myself. My attraction to and fascination with the postal service have been ongoing ever since I felt the excitement of holding a piece of mail addressed to me.

The story really begins back in...well, back several years. Decades, really. I was 10 years old, had just moved to another state away from family and friends, and was living out in the country on a gravel road at least five miles from the nearest town. This was in the foothills of the Ozarks, so no road went straight anywhere--as the crow flew, distances weren't so great; as the car trudged along, it took forever, to my 10-year-old mind, to get to the town where there was a library. The library was, from that day to this, the mecca toward which I bowed and prayed. (Well, not quite, but you get the idea.) But that's another story.

Okay, I'm ten years old, just ready to have another birthday. And I know there'll be a birthday card or two from my aunts back in Illinois. But I never expected something else I got--a subscription to Silver Screen movie magazine! My stepgrandmother knew what this 11-year-old girl would want to read. The magazine came addressed to me. Every single month. I lost myself in the stories of the stars and their lives, memorizing photos of the ones I knew from the few movies I had seen. Those magazines piled up in my room. I treated them kindly so they didn't get bent or wrinkled, and I reread them till I knew them forward and backward.

After that first exhilaration of receiving mail, I looked forward to having pen pals. Those experiences were never as great as I'd thought they would be. Either the pal or I lost interest because we ran out of things to say. Hard to get a letter out to the box if nothing is going on in your life; or worse--if what is going on is better left unsaid, especially to an outsider.

A couple of years later I went to live with my dad and stepmother, and my mother wrote me every week from where she and my stepfather lived. Most of her writings were postcards--not the picture kind, but the ones bought from the post office that had acres of room on the back for messages. My mom could scrunch her handwriting down into really small script to get lots of information on the back. She had beautiful cursive writing--I read and reread those cards that whole year that we were apart. They were like having her there, talking to me. And she always reminded me that she loved me. That was best of all.

By that time I was in junior high--now called middle school--so I learned about ordering things through the mail. First came photos of my favorite movie stars--I wrote asking for an autographed picture and most of them sent one. Within a few years I was earning a little money working part time, so my correspondence escalated to orders for phonograph records--LPs from The Columbia Club. (Somebody in this audience has to remember LPs.) Jazz, both vocal and instrumental, was my category. Then I added show tunes, groups like The HiLos, and finally some piano soloists playing classical music. (In those days I called all the "serious" music classical; later I would learn about the different periods and styles. Didn't bother me that I wasn't 100% correct--ignorance never stopped me from enjoying the music.)

Despite forays into merchandise-by-mail, I never lost the attraction of personal letters. When friends graduated from high school before me, I asked them to write. Some of them did. After I married, I gained a whole new family of letter writers--in-laws (after we moved to Michigan), plus my husband's grandparents and aunt and uncle in Iowa. Because we moved around in the first years of our marriage, some of my relatives kept in touch by mail--my dad and stepmother, aunts, and a couple of cousins. In addition there were always birthday cards to receive and send--and they had to have a message inside, naturally.

To this day, my favorite mail delivery includes letters, cards with messages hand-written inside, a magazine I love to read, or a package. Sometimes I strike it lucky and get all of the above. Bonanza indeed!

I'm a pretty good pen pal these days--I've learned to write on and on about practically anything. Blogs are ideal for that talent. And maybe--just maybe--age has something to do with it. After all, several decades of experiences have to count for something, right?

Yes, I've learned to appreciate the Internet and its electronic mail that has captivated me along with millions of other folks. Yes, I do use texting. These quick corresponders keep me in touch with folks when I need to let them know something or ask a question and can't--or won't--wait for slower processes. Sometimes it's just to say hi. But it's not quite the same as a letter I can hold in my hand, knowing it's been in my cousin's or friend's hand just a few days ago, the wobbly writing signifying the labor of love of an arthritic hand. I know that person and she wrote me a letter.

The power of the mailbox--it's the great connector in an age where so much is instantaneous. "Snail" mail gives us something better than instant gratification: Anticipation. Today just might be the day for a letter or card or package. And if not today, well, there's hope for tomorrow.

That's the power of the mailbox.

 

SOMETIMES . . . another look

[A second look at this post, published in 2020, seems appropriate right now--some of us are lamenting the passing of 2022, others wish it had gone away sooner. Perhaps we just need a little joy . . . .]

You may remember a blog back in the summer of 2017 when I explored the land of Sometimes.

Today I'm taking us on a different sojourn in the same land--a happy sojourn, because whether we know it or not, 

SOMETIMES JOY BREAKS THROUGH.

I can hear your question: Why wouldn't I want Joy to break through? Well, let's talk about that.

Sometimes, Joy breaks through when you're at a cemetery service for the interment of a loved one.

Sometimes, it's while you're reading a book that touches your heart and soul.

Sometimes, it's when you hear a piece of  music that draws you in and holds you, keeps you safe.

Sometimes, it can happen when you watch a young father change his baby's diaper.

Sometimes, on a gloomy day--a real downer--you suddenly feel like dancing (never mind your two left feet).

Why, we wonder? Why--or maybe, how--does this happen? For me, Joy breaking through happens this way:

--God breaks through our sadness.

--God parts the curtain, lifts the veil.

--And it happens because God loves us, wants us to be happy and loving and giving, even in times of grief and anger and disappointment.

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Nearly everyone has a favorite Bible verse. Mine is a partial verse, Matthew 28:20b--Lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.

These words have sustained me in the most trying times:

--travel in dangerous winter weather

--my mother's long illness and then death

--marriage at a young age

--birth of four children in six years, with no family nearby for help or support

--waiting for teenage children to return home at night

--erosion of a marriage, and eventual divorce

--learning I have serious health issues; living with cancer, heart disease, vision problems

Always--always!--God broke through the veil and let Joy return to comfort and keep me.

The success of Joy breaking through may depend, in part, on our willingness to let it happen.

Sometimes, the rut we wallow in is/becomes quite comfortable.

Sometimes, we see no possible way to go, to be.

Sometimes, we refuse help--believing that if we can't do it ourselves, then nobody else can help us.

And thus God has fashioned us human beings to help each other; to be God's eyes, ears, hands, arms, and feet where God would go, if only we'd allow it.

I  have to confess: I have a hard time accepting help; past experience has shown me getting help from others may have negative side effects. But I also freely confess, I wouldn't have made it through my life without the help of other people.

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Time for a little language lesson. Did you ever notice that enjoy contains the word joy? To en-joy is to inject joy into something. To make it happen. To summon it out.

And another good word for us is rejoice, also derived from joy. We sang "rejoice! rejoice!" during Advent. We sang "Joy to the world" at Christmas.

Perhaps we're hard-wired to keep joy in life, for ourselves and for others.

Be blessed!

 ARE YOU READY?

Time to get our fingers ready to turn the page to a "new" year.

Thank you, Charles Schulz!

I don't know about you, but there are times I wouldn't mind repeating a year I loved. Of course, that would mean ignoring any and all sad/bad/irritating/frustrating/no-good things that happened that year. And, if we're honest, every year has them. Even the year we think of as "that perfect year" back when . . . .

Since we're not given much opportunity to pick and choose the year we want, we do have a few options. Such as:

• pretend the year didn't change. Just go on as before.
• mark through the year at the top of the calendar pages and insert the number we want.
• burn all calendars.

I admit, those aren't going to solve the problem of possibly having a bad year. (In fact, I can foresee some major train wrecks when we show up for an appointment we don't have, or don't show up for one we do have, or thought we had, or . . . .

So the only options left are:

• take a deep breath and go with the flow (remember to keep your head up so you can breathe)
• stop telling everybody you know how much you hate this new year (if they do, too, you won't be helping them any; and if they don't agree with you, you may have lost a friend)
• best of all: Think of This New Year as an Adventure!

Radical thought. An adventure! Not up for surprises? Not ready for an adventure? Feel bewildered by strangeness? 

Take heart . . . you're not alone! But, if you do accept the challenge to go with the Adventure idea, you'll also have company. After all, if you can't change it--and I've never known anyone who actually did get a new year changed--you might as well hang around and see what's going to happen. Who knows? It might be great!!

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I'm going to close with a quotation I've used before, because (1) I like Hal Borland, and (2) I agree with what he says. Here goes:

Wishing you a wonderful year ahead! 

Blessings,

Thursday's Child

 FOUR GIFTS

[This year Thursday's Child is again visiting you a few days before Christmas Day. I reread this post from a few years ago and realized--it is exactly right for this year of 2022 undertainty.]

In two days, it will be Christmas Eve. Gift-giving is a tradition at this season. We’ve searched for just the right thing for Aunt Susie, ordered what we hope will tickle our grandchild, maybe even made some gifts for special people.

If I could give each of you a gift, I’d wrap up four nice boxes and in each one there would be a word you could treasure the rest of your life.

In the first box I’d put Hope. Without hope in our lives, we can grow afraid of the future. It all looks bleak. Or endless nothing. Or terrifying. But with hope, we can see something greater than the fears we live with.

In the second box I’d put Peace. My favorite definition is on a mug I use to drink tea each day. It reads: “Peace. It does not mean to be in a place where there is no noise, trouble or hard work. It means to be in the midst of those things and still be calm in your heart.”

In the third box I’d put Joy. A few days ago I read in a small devotional book this thought: “Joy feels deeper than momentary pride, satisfaction, or relief. . . . A sense of joy brings deep contentment and is often expressed by gratitude for what we’ve been given.” (Lelanda Lee, author)

And in the fourth box I’d put Love. Love encompasses Hope; it brings Peace; and underneath all Joy you’ll find Love.

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Have a Happy Christmas!