Call Me Irresponsible

If you were to ask any five people who have known me for a while what some of my best qualities are, I would bet that every one of them would have "responsible" somewhere on their list. I am the person who shows up early to church to make the coffee and set out the treats for coffee hour. I'm the person who volunteers to set up and tear down for meetings, programs, and parties. I am the first to volunteer for whatever the group is doing. In short, I see a need and I fill it.

This is certainly not anything to be ashamed of. On the contrary, it is commendable to be responsible in an age where so many people and institutions refuse to do so anymore if in fact they ever did. It is also a wonderful example to set for the younger generation ... except ...

...except when you let it take over your life. Somewhere along the line my sense of responsibility began to become obsessive. I started taking responsibility for everything without allowing anyone else to step up and do their share. My mothers words, "if you want something done right, do it yourself," became my mantra. And as everyone knows, the more you become Fallback Position #1, the more people will just assume that you'll keep being the one to do it all, and that not only keeps them from taking responsibility themselves but eventually wears yourself pretty thin.

The other day I had had enough. I totally refused to be responsible for anything. I stayed in my bathrobe all day. I left a pile of dirty dishes in the sink. I let the laundry go for another day (I live alone and figure as long as I have enough undies and outfits for four days of work and church on Sunday, I'm good). I put on Christmas music and dragged out the Christmas decorations. When people called me to see if I was available for this or that, I politely refused and told them that I was taking a Mental Health Day. I also advised them that I was confident in their talent and ability to do it on their own. I drank spiced tea and ate shortbread cookies and hugged a teddy bear. It was the best day ever.

Today I came across this post on my Facebook page. It was written by author and Angel Therapy guide Doreen Virtue:

1. Release the belief that you're responsible for everyone and everything.
2. Let go of perfection.
3. Ask for help and accept help from others.
4. Focus on what's important, and the rest of the day will take care of itself.

That sounds like a pretty good recipe for life to me. How about you?

And so it is.l

In Praise of Hot Water

It was Murphy's Law at my house on Wednesday evening. I came home from work to discover that the hot water heater in my apartment had decided that this was the perfect time to move on to the Promised Land (or wherever old water heaters go). My building manager said she didn't know there were any that old still operating in any of the apartments. I could have lived without the reference to age. 

So here I was with seven people coming for dinner the next day and no hot water. Our maintenance man had gone hunting for the long Thanksgiving weekend. Fortunately my daughter had come over and done much of the cooking ahead of time so it was basically just the turkey to stuff and put in the oven. I figured we could boil water and wash the dishes the old fashioned way until Friday when they would get a plumber to install a new water heater.

Then came the issue of bathing. I boiled some water and carried it into the bathroom. After I poured it in the sink I went to raise the heat in the bathroom (each room has a baseboard heater with its own thermostat) and, low and behold ... no heat in the bathroom. Like the water heater, the baseboard heater crackled and creaked before it went to live with the spirit of the old water heater. Okay. I was a Girl Scout once. I know how to camp out. I carried my bath things into the kitchen where, thankfully, there was heat. I boiled more water and bathed in the kitchen. It wasn't pretty, but it got the job done.

As all of this was going on, instead of getting myself riled up over something I couldn't possibly control, I started to laugh. I thought to myself, "No wonder they only took baths on a Saturday night ... it was too much work to boil all that water and drag the tub into the kitchen to keep warm." The next day after dinner we made an assembly line: boil water, wash dishes, wipe dishes and put them away, boil more water, next batch of dishes, etc. We were laughing about how we felt like pioneer women. It struck me, then, that this is what the words "family" and "community" mean. This is how our ancestors lived, each dependent on one another, doing what had to be done to accomplish tasks we now zip through in mere minutes instead of the hours it took them. I realized that our modern way of life was built on the work and determination of those that came before us and I wondered, sadly, how much of that feeling of family and community we've lost as a result.

The next day someone sent me a Native American proverb on Facebook. The closing line was: "you are the result of the love of thousands." Have you ever stopped and thought of how many people came before you since the beginning of time to produce you right here, right now, in this moment? In this life of dishwashers, and indoor plumbing,and hot water, and heaters? I did that day. It was a moment filled with lots of humility and gratitude. 

I don't think I'll stop using a dishwasher or enjoying the benefits of a hot bath in a heated bathroom, but when I offer my daily prayer of thanks and gratitude, you can be sure that I will now include thanks for the love and hard work of the thousands that produced me, and I will never experience the joy of hot water running over my hands again without thinking of them.

And so it is.

Thank You

It goes without saying that this week the majority of Americans will be focused on Thanksgiving Day and all that it means. Some people will have a long list of things to be grateful for. Some won't. Some will be focused on the feast and some will be grateful for whatever food they have that day. Sometimes gratitude is a tough thing to pin down when you're feeling less than grateful for where you are in life.

I've been seeing a particular quote from Meister Eckhart floating around Facebook and other venues in the last week or so: "If the only prayer you said was thank you that would be enough." I think "thank you" and gratitude go hand in hand. So my gratitude list is also a prayer of thanks for all of the good things in my life, like a home, food on the table, a job that pays the bills, a family I love and that loves me, and so much more. There is, however, someone who should be on that thank you list that is usually left off if they are remembered at all. That's kind of hard to believe when you realize that they are the most important person in your  life. You could not live without them. It's you. Whether you believe it or not, you have done more for yourself than you may imagine. You may not always be happy with yourself, but you have always done the very best you could with the experience, knowledge and assets you had at the time. You have always been there for you when no one else was. We're talking the best friend you will ever have.

So this year I am topping off my thank you list with a short but heartfelt note to me in deepest gratitude:

Dear Barb,

Thank you so very much for always being there when I needed  you. You have always looked out for me and done the best you could every day. Some days were better than others, but you never left me, never forgot me, always encouraged me and pushed me to be the very best "me" I could be. I know it's not always easy being my best friend. I know I can be argumentative, frustrating, procrastinating, and downright stubborn a lot of the time. Still, day after day, you did what had to be done to take care of me. You fed me when I was hungry, tucked me in at night, doctored me when I was sick, and rewarded me for every accomplishment however small. I know you will always have my back and with that knowledge I am less afraid to try new things, meet new people and reach for my dreams. Rest assured that when my dreams come true, you will be standing right there with me as we share the glory together. You taught me that I am stronger than I know and braver than I believe myself to be (didn't you say that to Winnie The Pooh, too?).

Thank you. I love you.

And so it is.

Staying Rooted

I've been writing alot about trees lately. There is no other time of the year when I feel their presence and their wisdom as deeply as in Autumn. This morning I sat looking out of the window at the now bare branches of the maples, oaks, ash and birch trees. Here and there woven into the branches are the nests that will stay vacant for the most part until their owners return from their winter homes to the south or wherever they have taken up a safer residence out of the cold. What struck me as I looked at them was that even without the magnificence of their leaves, they were still beautiful. There they stood with their roots deep into the earth and their arms open wide and reaching for the heavens. The winter winds and snow will beat against them in the months to come, but in the spring they will still be there to welcome the birds and squirrels back ... if their roots remain strong.

When I think about all of the storms of my life that I have weathered, I know that I have not come out at this end without some scars. I know that with age comes change both internally and externally. I see so many women who, as they get older, try to find themselves in bottles, jars and lifts. I'm not saying that we shouldn't look and feel out best. What I am saying is that the truth of who we are is not in how we are made up, but in what we are made of. Our personal truths are the roots that we plant deep, the foundations that provides us sacred ground to stand on, that give us strength to lift up our arms wide to the heavens and give thanks while we ask "okay, what's next?"

A few months ago I wrote about a tree that was a special friend to my granddaughter when she was small. When the tree came down after a very harsh winter, she was devastated. But the roots of the tree remained in the ground even as her shattered trunk lay all around her. Out of those roots planted so very deep came a new generation of green, the next ones to offer homes for the animals, and hope for the future. I guess, in the end, that's the message the trees are sending me ... hope, that, after the winter, comes the spring. Always and forever.

And so it is.

Taking Stock

I don't know about you, but right about now I am making a list of all the things we're going to need to make Thanksgiving dinner. I'm checking my stock to see what we have and what we still need. Even beyond the most obvious: the turkey, the green beans, the sweet potatoes and all the ingredients to turn these into family favorites, are the non-food items like table cloths, centerpiece, napkins ... and, of course, a good turkey pan. So many things to think about, so many lists to make.

It goes without saying that another list we all tend to make at this time of year is the list of things we are grateful for. It's a wonderful time to do that as we celebrate the harvest and all the wonderful things the earth has provided us with to feed us body and soul. It's a shame that so many people wait until this one holiday to make a list of things to be thankful for. I start each and every day with a "thank you" to the Universe for everything in my life, every sunrise and every opportunity to greet a new day with infinite possibility.

There is another list that is useful to make when we are taking the time to count our blessings. I call it Taking Stock Of What No Longer Serves Me. I like to do this at this time of year because while I am "taking stock" of things to be grateful for, I am also more aware of those things, events and, yes, even people, who have passed through my life but need to be released for whatever reason. Sometimes people have grown in different directions and need to follow a different path. Sometimes the family has grown so large that you may consider celebrating the holidays on a simpler scale so there will be more time to be together and less time being exhausted. For others, it may be that the family has gotten smaller, scattered across the globe, and new ways to celebrate that give meaning to where you are in your life now need to be created. Whatever needs to be on that list, put it down. Say thank you for the memories and lessons they have given you, and then let them go. Make a ceremony by taking it outside and burning the list, letting the ashes feed the earth. Or, if you live near water, let it take sail into the waters of renewal.

This year we are coming together as a family and doing Thanksgiving dinner together rather than have the burden on just one person. Each member is contributing something even if it is just their time and their kitchen to help cook the meal. With so many loving hands working together, we'll all be able to take time to watch Santa come down Broadway at the end of the parade to usher in the holiday season. And won't that be something to be thankful for?

And so it is.

Endings And Beginnings

As I sit here writing this, the morning sky outside is crystal blue. After a weekend of rain and wind (and a few snow flurries), the trees are almost bare now. A few die-hards are hanging on and the contrast is startling. The trees look like skeletons of their former selves. This is the time of the year that is hard for many gardeners as they prepare to get their gardens ready for the long winter sleep to come. Just like the trees outside of my window, the garden is a skeleton of its former self. The withered, brown stalks, the yellowed leaves, the few veggies that did not make it in before the first, hard freeze. We pull things out, turn things over, rake things smooth. We make it ready for the next stop on its journey.

A friend was posting on Facebook about raking the leaves that had turned his garden into such a colorful carpet. Those leaves may no longer have a life on the trees, but they will be turned into the garden beds as compost and start a new life as nourishment for the soil. Endings and beginnings.

As we go through the seasons of our lives, we experience many endings and beginnings, especially as we arrive at the crossroads of adulthood and wisdom years. We wake up one day and it feels as if our lives are like those trees, just a skeleton of the life we once had. Maybe those things that represented the colorful leaves on our trees, like family and friends, have fallen away for one reason or another and we stand there waiting for directions to the next leg of the journey. This is when it helps to take some time out and rake in the memories, those people and events that nourished our lives up to this point, and turn them over into the fertile soil of our hearts. That is the place where new lives take root.

Right now, even though I no longer garden on a big scale, I still have gardening chores to do. I take down all of the porch planters and empty them, make sure I've harvested all of the herbs for drying indoors, pull down the summer decorations and replace them with colorful gourds, mini pumpkins, garlands of autumn leaves and plastic geese taking wing. Before long even these will be replaced with snowmen and Santas, pine wreaths and garlands. Nothing stays the same. The seasons come whether we want them to or not. When one ends, another begins, and brings with it new sights, sounds and smells, even as we incorporate those from the past that make moving forward a little less scary.

Endings don't have to be sad. Without them we would never have the gift of new beginnings, new experiences, new journeys to make. How dull life would be if it were one season forever.

And so it is.

Going With The Flow

I started a new job last week. At the age of 64 it was the last thing I thought I would be doing. I had pretty much accepted that I would stay at the job I was at until I was financially able to retire full time (I only work part time), or until the funding for our program was cut and I had to make a decision. It was not the ideal set of options especially when you stop to consider that A). I really, really no longer liked my job ... I hesitate to use the world "hate" as that is such a strong vibration, but "strongly disliked" or, "no longer fulfilling" doesn't quite say it. Possibly "spiritually draining" would come closer, and B. I "hated" (sorry it's the only one that works here) getting up at 5:15 in the morning to make a 50 minute bus trip to work only to repeat the process again in the afternoon. Still, after looking around at the job situation in my neck of the woods which was discouraging, to say the least, and knowing that every day through my job I spoke with women who were over 50 and had been out of work for over a year or more, I finally decided to make peace with where I was. In essence, I changed the way I experienced the situation and then let go of the outcome.

It started with getting up in the morning and saying "thank you" for the day, the job, the opportunity to earn enough money to support my needs, and using the affirmation: "Out of this situation only good will come. All is well in my world." I started carrying my MP3 player on the bus to listen to guided meditations and inspirational music to make the trip less of a nightmare and make better use of the time. When I got to work I blessed the building, the people, even the paperclips, and asked that everyone who passed through the front doors be helped. Then I just let go and "let God."

...and the most amazing thing happened.After doing this for about 6 weeks, not only did I not "hate" anything anymore,but I received a gift I could never have imagined on my own.  I received a phone call from my niece. She was working part-time and needed full-time (daughter, mortgage, car payments, etc.). The work was something I had done in the past and just needed to brush up on. The office was in a lovely old house that had once been the manse for the church next door. The people were wonderful to work with and very spiritually based ... and it was across the street from my apartment! Needless to say I dug out my resume, rounded up some referrals, and trusted that this would not be happening if it was not where I was meant to be ... and my commute is 4 minutes on foot!

As I write this I am looking out of the window at big, fluffy clouds flowing by in a pale, blue sky as the wind pushes them along. It makes me think about how the clouds do not fight the wind, do not complain about which direction they are being pushed in, or how long it takes them to get from one place to another. They just go with the flow and accept that where they are is where they are supposed to be.

Nobody really likes change, especially as we get older. It is hard to imagine starting something brand new at a time when you are ready to kick back and feel as if you are in control of your life for a change. I have found, however, that whenever I stop trying to control everything and "go with the flow," I am led to where I am supposed to be and I know it because of how I feel inside: happy, at peace, and grateful. Who wouldn't like a life like that?

And so it is.