I would...

Sometimes I think in terms of the things I would do "if I could..." You know the line of "if-thinking" -- if I could only do what I wanted, I would do these things -- play in the dirt every day, stay up reading until my eyelids fell together or the book was finished, travel around the country and the world, at whim... If I could, I would...

It's that kind of thinking that often spirals me deep into a place of "I can't... do this, or that, or..." and eventually, I can't do anything except sit in one place and breathe. It's a frustrating place to be, and perhaps moreso, a frustrating place to watch myself go as if I can't truly control it or turn myself around.

I have moments and times when I feel especially gifted at asking good questions of other people -- of being able to say quietly, and gently, "What would happen if we looked at this another way?"Of asking, "Does it have to be this way, and if not, how can we change it?" I am rarely that gentle with myself, and therefore am not often able to change my own perspective.

Today I sat down and thought, "If I could, I would play in the dirt every day..." and a little voice said, "Why can't you...?" and the thought continued, dancing through my mind, to say not just "Why not?" but to say, "How could that be possible, and what would it take?"

I suppose that if I could, I would want to have such clarity all the time -- I would want to stop the spiral before it began. For now, though, I'm grateful that I had a moment of thought-shift ... for my dirt-playing, world-traveling, late-night reading indulgences. I'm holding these questions gently so that I can ask them as other dreams float to the surface and instead of saying, "If only..." I can ask, "How..."

Hello?

My husband recently got a fancy new phone, you know, a "smartphone" that allows him to check email and send things on a qwerty keypad. It's nice and when he's driving, I use it to check things online and to send an occasional update or email. Mine is a standard flip phone, and it works just fine. However, as I find myself being out of the office more and more, on the road or simply away to places without (free) business centers or even a computer, I dream of being able to check in without having to go home or to the office. It seems silly in some ways to me, but in other ways it's a good use of resources... some might even say in this line of work, that it's good stewardship.

This morning he handed me the fancyschmancy device and said, "read this." Under the banner headline of "Smartphones Now Ringing for Women," the New York Times reported on the trend of women increasingly wanting smartphones -- iphone, blacberry, etc. He hadn't read more than the opening sentences, but as I've lusted after his phone he thought I might find it of interest.

Interesting, yes. Slightly enraging? Yep.

With quotes such as, "Women have been using them for years in business, of course, but many are finding that the phones can also help manage their families’ hectic schedules and keep them in touch with friends" Ms. Holson proceeded to illustrate that women can use a phone (and it doesn't have to be pink! WHAT?! Shock of all shocks!) to keep every bit of their life in order. You know, on top of all of the things that they do in the office. And, better still, it's not seen as "geeky" anymore to be connected. Perhaps if she'd left out the phrase "of course" that particular quote wouldn't have perturbed me quite so much. As if women had just realized that they could use a planner to schedule everything else -- and not. just. work.

Because look -- women can operate technology, too!

(Just for the record: I have nothing against the pink phone. I would happily use one if given the opportunity.)

Weepy

I finished a book tonight, and toward the end, I got all weepy. OK, by the time I closed the cover, I was wiping hot tears from my cheeks. The book wasn't a literary masterpiece, by any means, but it was touching and sad.

As I was chiding myself for the tears over a silly book, I thought about the other times that I've cried recently -- a movie, a song on the radio. And then I remembered a pattern I've developed. I don't nap, even Sunday afternoons; instead I plow through the day and whatever exhaustion I'm feeling. When evening comes, after dinner and often with a glass of wine, I'll watch Ty's makeover home show. You know the one. We call it the weepy home show -- because I cry. Every. Week. It took me awhile to realize that this emotional release was helpful, necessary, whatever -- but that it is an emotional release.

So it was with the book, the movie, the song. In the many ways that I'm strong in many places, the emotions sneak up on me and I'm discreetly trying to wipe away the wetness on my cheeks before I reach my next destination, or turn the aisle in the store after looking at a particularly touching card.

When I sat down to write this, I thought, "I'm tired. It's been a long weekend." But that statement stretched into a question of week? couple off weeks? month? And so I found myself weeping tonight, tears that slid off the side of my face as I finished my book.

Traveling

Every summer we try to "go home." Living hours upon hours away from family has advantages, but we do try to make the pilgrimage each summer, and again sometime in the winter. It's sort of the deal we struck moving so far away. We grumble about it every time, and it's hard to spend time with family in such an intense way, seeing everyone in a short, compact amount of time, trying to make sure that everyone feels like they've had their fair share of us. Of course everyone wishes that there was more time, more days, more moments.

This summer, for a variety of reasons, we don't have anything on the calendar except a lot of times that won't work. In fact, we don't have any sort of non-work related travel on the calendar at all, until October. Perhaps that should change. It might help my outlook on the world, to know that there would be time away.

Lorenzo

I'm the type of person who can watch the same movie over and over and over. Of course not every movie is worthy of such a watching, a casual playing while I do something else, or an intentional burrowing on the couch, blankets and snacks around.

Lorenzo's Oil was one of them. I watched it several times, crying each and every time, awed by the strength of the parents, the dedication and the intensity.

The inspiration for the movie died yesterday at age 30. May he rest in peace.

Full-up

I'm all full-up, as my kidlet used to say, from this past week. All brimming with inspiration, of speakers and brushes with fame. I'm satiated with friends and connections, new and old. I'm a bit sloshy with the life, and drunk on conversation and idea.
And now I'm back, drawn again to word and immersed in a sacramental life. I'm asking questions again, of myself, my place, my calling, searching for clarity and synchronicity, trying to answer that which I asked others. I'm looking for that yearning bit and trying to stand apart.
It's not easy, this calling, and it's been good to have a break, to realize that no one else lives an especially easy life, either. That there are always obligations and questions, irritations and frustrations.

Trying to find a word.

The place, the people, the time:
Amazing, sacred, full, intense, delightful, unexpected.
Stunning, gracious, good-natured, laughing.
Divine. Quotidian.

Signs

I've chronicled the Saga of My Unwashed Coffee Cups here before.

I washed the collection this morning, and realized that it's one of the tangible signs that I'm getting ready to go away for a bit. I wash my coffee cups. Some people clean their home. I wash cups.

Next week? I do believe it's called room service.

Better than the crossword puzzle

I never realize how entrenched I am in the little routines of my life until I change them. Obvious, perhaps, and yet.... perhaps I should change more than one of them in any given day.

This morning I had to stop and walk myself through the shampoo/rinse/condition/wash/rinse cycle because I'd moved my shampoo.

And this afternoon? I nearly just threw my chewed gum on the carpet of my office because I moved my garbage can.

Laughing?
Try it.

Words

You remind me of words

I said long ago

Words that I'd forgotten

and scenarios 

I had scrubbed clean away. 

You make me laugh

and somehow sad, 

not knowing what

this is all about. 

I scanned over some

pieces today

that represented 

more than the black and white

on the page, 

and that conjured up places

I'd allowed to gather dust. 

Tile by tile

Piece by piece

Creating a bit of 

wholeness. 

Easter Shoes

Enough said. 

Winter, still

It would sit on the ice in the middle of the river for months. People would buy tickets to guess when the ice below it would eventually give way and as the weather began to warm, each time we crossed the bridge -- which we did several times a day -- I would look to see if it was still there. 

I don't remember that my parents ever bought a ticket. I would guess they didn't. But watching the old junked car there was part of my childhood, pondering when the weather would warm enough and the river would run fast enough to break the ice free. 

I don't know how it got there, or how it was retrieved from the water after it went down, but it's one of those images imprinted on my mind. 

Today, I'm not above pondering just when the weather will warm enough to make it feel like spring is pending. Folks at church yesterday said, "By Wednesday, maybe Thursday," and I desperately want to believe them. I'd be thrilled with simply some sunshine, but I certainly won't turn down warmer weather. 

It's been a long winter, and I'm tired. 

And on a lighter note...

Some random tidbits from the world around me: 

* A few of the women whose blogs I read are pregnant. I'm excited for these births, even though I rarely (if ever) comment on their blogs. 

* I think chocolate is an acceptable food group for breakfast. Particularly with coffee. 

* I was sick last week. I hate being sick. 

* The whole personal pep talk thing? It should probably be a daily event, if not more. 

* My dog is sleeping very cutely right now. It makes me wonder why he's crazy-dog sometimes. 

* I had a "still, small voice" moment last night that I'm not sure what to make of. One of those times when I hear something in my head so very clearly, but so completely unexpectedly. 

*We're going to a fancy-schmancy dinner and dance this weekend. I'm particularly excited about the dancing option. 

* It's my birthday month. Soon it will be my birthday week. I need to figure out what I want to do for this celebration of my life. 

* If I could stay home and bake and cook all the time, I just might. Of course I know I would go batty and unproductive after about day three, but it's a good fantasy to have in the middle of a meeting. 

Young

Tonight, after a fantastic haircut experience, I went for a drink with a girlfriend. 

And I got carded. 

I don't look that young. 

Cold

It's cold, and I'm tired. A wee bit sick, and cranky. Overwhelmed by my to-do list, and my want-to-do list. I've spent much of the past few days in pajamas, with my head in a fog, just not myself. Wanting the sun to shine into the depths of me, and reflect a brightness.
I opened the blinds in my office; perhaps that will help.
A sign of the fog that has descended? Not wanting to plan a birthday celebration for myself, or have anyone else do it, either. I love my birthday. And this morning I told my co-everything that I wasn't sure I wanted a party. Which isn't to say that I won't change my mind, but it's cold, and I'm tired.

What's the opposite...

Of the golden touch? 

Other than my morning? 

Looking for humorous suggestions.... 

Few of mine are fit to print. And not that anything was tragically wrong, but it seemed that everything had something that wasn't right. 

Except my sermon, that is. Thank goodness I pulled myself together to preach because for the first time in a loooooong time I felt like my groove was back in the pulpit where it belongs -- instead of wherever it had been, flitting around a frozen pond somewhere. Hmpf. It better stay put. 

Little Things

Before Christmas I implemented a few things in my office that I have maintained in these days of January:

Music. Thanks to Katherine I discovered the holiday album from Over The Rhine. I listened to it every day. I just plugged my shuffle in, and while I desperately need to update it, I'm currently enjoying some Eddie From Ohio.

Candles. After decorating for a holiday function, I had some unscented candles that remained and I lit them one morning in the cold of December. They have since burned all the way down, but Restoration Hardware had some lovely red unscented candles on significant clearance that now grace the corner of my desk. When I'm feeling frantic, they calm me.

Post-it Mantra. I posted a couple of lists in December that gave some light to the interior monologue/voices in my head. I really couldn't post many of those in the light of day around my office, but one day in a fit of frustration I wrote out the following on a bright post-it and it rests atop my computer screen: "I'll never be balanced. I hope for centered... I pray for focused..."

What gives you life on "those days?" How do you calm the frantics?

The Reverse Date

Lunch, movie, pick up child from daycare. I guess it's not really a reverse date as it is a date in a different time zone. Regardless, we had one Monday -- it's been awhile, so it was lovely. 

We saw Juno. 

Go see it. 

Oh, and I cried. 

At the movie, but also? 

During the previews. 

Yep. That's me -- the one in front of you sniffling at the end of a 90-second trailer. 

It's December

I had one of those days during which about 100 blog posts went through my mind and none of them emerged on the screen. That's probably for the best -- I mean, who has time or desire to read 100 of my posts?! But at the same time I'm sitting here thinking that there were probably some good words lost! Another day, another time, right?

We (my co-everything and I) did a joint pastoral care visit today. I think that was a first for us. We saw some of my (our?) favorites in the congregation -- a sassy man in his 80s who had a knee replaced yesterday and his wife who is about the sweetest. Every time I see them they witness to me in a powerful and genuine way. I want to be like them when I grow up.

Our building addition has been complete for a couple of years now. Tonight there were "too many" things going on for the space, and we had to have a meeting in an office. I know this is a common dilemma for many congregations, and am truly not complaining, just observing. And wondering what it means for the future of this congregation.

I find myself amazed at my own love for my child. Which is not to say that I don't become frustrated at his dawdling, incessant questioning and resistance to going to bed. However, he's currently sleeping with the snowbrush from my car because he was so excited about it tonight. That's right.

I usually post at work and it's quick, or at home and it's on a browser that doesn't play well with the rest of the world so making links is difficult. But tonight I'm using the browser that does play well with others and want to share some of my other blog reading-perusing with you.

I read this one and wish I could make quilts like these. I started reading this one because of the clever, clever title, and I keep going back because she puts words together in delightful ways. I have laughed out loud reading this one, and have a wish list of things from her and her sister; the whole family is fabulously creative.

So, what have you been up to?

Information, please

I love the idea behind Etsy.
But unless I follow a specific link, I get overhwelmed.
If you've used it, would you be willing to share your favorite artist, or two or six?
Thanks!