Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment. ~Buddha

My favorite part of the day is the morning. As I have gotten older, I have awkened earlier and earlier. At one time the reason for my pre-dawn rumblings was to get a jump start on the day-unload the dishwasher, start some laundry,etc. I also had to squeeze in a small bit of exercise since my post work obligations usually involved errands or my sons’ activities plus a nightly family meal. Since the days of staying ahead of my family’s messes  and other duties are over, my early mornings belong soley to me. During my training days for half-marathons, it was not unusual for me to get up at 4:30 am  in order to have time to drink a cup of coffee, get my lunch packed, stretch and head out the door by 6 am. Nowadays, I still set the alarm for the same time but linger in bed listening to the morning news or the sounds of the quiet outside.

What I have learned from my early rising is the importance of being in the moment. Staying observant-especially of Mother Nature. It has also allowed me to remember my sons’ morning awakenings as babies. They were thrilled to wake up and greet the brand new day and take in all its wonder. We all lose that feeling way too soon.  How many of us are guilty of just lying in bed when it is time to get up-dreading the day?  The reality is that not all of life is a joy ride. In my own life, I have had too many days that I had to spend embroiled in legal tussles due to my divorce and post divorce issues. My mother’s illness and death left me weighted down with grief that made it hard to get out of bed. But the other reality is that nothing bad lasts forever, either. The struggles and heartaches allow you for opportunities to experience true joy.

I guess this is why I have a hard time with others’ endless rants and complaints about getting up in the morning. How bad is it really?  Is it because you have allowed yourself to adopt and become coerced by the 21st century’s practice of overscheduling your life? Do you wake up waiting for the day or week to end? Why are you rushing time when you have no idea when your time will end here?

This attitude and practice makes a person their own time thief.  The miracles and joys and humor and comfort of even the most ordinary moments are lost when we don’t allow ourselves to be present wherever we are. I guess this is why we now feel the need to request that cell phones be shut off during church services, for example. It makes perfect sense to me that they are off during such a sacred time but I still witnessed a fellow parishioner stealthily using hers during a recent interfaith service. Besides the fact the it is down right rude to be texting or checking email during this time, it showed me that she was not fully embracing the experience.

And this is what we all need to do. I try not to miss a sunrise- a challenge in the winter northern climate because of the overabundance of gray days! Sometimes it is hard to capture the days moving moments so I have taken to writing them down in my pocket journal (thank you Jenn!). Here are couple of recent entries:

This morning I arose at my usual pre-dawn time to the light of the moon. My bed is situated as to allow me a view of my vast backyard and the woods that surround it. The whole yard was awash in moonlight and it was there that I saw the movement of a large animal figure-a coyote. Normally, I hear them howling in the middle of the night and at times I have seen one or two in distance as I go for my morning run. Today was different. A lone coyote just feet from my back door- an awesome sight!

This morning I awaken with the remants of the week-the start of a cold and a scheduled court appearance involving my former husband.  I decide to embrace the day anyway and ask the universe for an efficient process as I head out for a long run. It is still quite dark but so, so quiet. Not a soul in sight-not even the headlights of cars quite yet. The scent of an animal comes from the bushes-not a deer, maybe a fox? I remain alert as my body warms up to the cold and the movement of my still sleeping leg muscles. My new shoes are still being broken in-day two of a blister is a burning reminder of this fact! I love being in tune at this time of day. My only companions are the thoughts that I allow to move in and out of my head. Today I take a slight detour on my route because it looks as if the sunrise is going to be outrageous. I head for a place where the sky is big and I am not disappointed. The night slowly gives way to the day and its pale yellow beginnings.  Over the course of the next two miles the sky becomes golden, then deep orange and finally fiery red by the last mile. My day is set and I know it will be good!

I wrote the latter entry while waiting to be called by the judge. (I wanted to capture my day and my real life on paper.) It didn’t take long to be go before her and the appearance was over in less than five minutes. I spent the rest of the day with my oldest. We got him ready for his second and last semester of college and we enjoyed a lunch date at an old graduate school haunt of mine. Later that day, one of his best friends stopped in. Still later, my youngest came home from work filthy and hungry. His girlfriend showed up too. The noise in the house grew as did the sounds of food preparation. I was simulantaneously making mac and cheese, serving salsa and chips and my homemade chocolate cake. Then my cousin called saying that he secured a car purchase for my oldest son (he has been saving and saving money for this very moment!) While my youngest was in the shower, I enjoyed an enlightening and positive conversation with his girlfriend. Then my oldest son’s girlfriend arrived adding her own extraordinary energy and love to the fray.

Folks, this is life. Moments of being in tune with the world around you as well as those you love. Staying present allows us to give birth to everyday joy and helps us conserve energy for those trying times when we need to put our best self forward.

“I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach!”
― Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

Tonight the first real snowfall of the season has begun.  It is a quiet entry; no wind nor rain-just the  hush of  a blanket coating the gray and brown earth. The rush and rumble of the Christmas holiday is winding down a bit, although my finance’ and I still have one more visit to make before  New Year’s day.

I love this time of year if only for the fact that it breaks the routine of daily work and other obligations. And even if you have to work, it never feels like a Monday or Friday and if it does, it probably is a Wednesday! My small house usually feels smaller if only for the tree in the living and study area. Add presents and family and we are squeezed; we are having trouble at times locating our gloves and hats! But I would not trade it for the world. The bedrooms are filled with sleeping people and their gear, my oldest has taken up residence on the pull- out couch in the basement and his girlfriend is camping on the living room couch when she visits.

I am especially mindful this Christmas. So many of the events and activities seem to be  a blend of holidays past, the present and what has yet  to come.  When the boys were young, I always felt the rush of Christmas; it was an exhausting process of gift buying and wrapping, purchasing and preparing the five course meal and entertaining family. I definitely  felt like a one woman show. Now, of course, my sons are older and I am no longer obligated to pull out all the stops for the day. In fact, Christmas has more of a community feel to it.  There was much conversation between the boys, their girlfriends and myself regarding gifts and plans for getting together with one another.  I knew that this year would be different from the  last simply because of the fact that they are in relationships. Making it all work would be a challenge and it certainly hit a glitch or two. Lesson learned by my youngest: you can’t make everyone happy!

If it wasn’t for the  significant change in our life years ago, I really do believe that we would not be experiencing the deep love and caring from the friends and family in our lives right now.  Christmas Eve’s Feast of the Seven Fishes is one example. It is hosted by my oldest son’s girlfriend’s family and I appreciate it just for the fact that it was one of my late mother’s childhood traditions. Stepping into the door of Carolyn and Fred’s home is like visiting my mother’s family. Yet, it is more than that. Those whom we met last year remembered us (and asked after my youngest immediately). We had delicious homemade food and meaningful conversations tinged with laughter. It was a joy to be there!

Of course, we went to the late service for church to sing carols and light the candles (the glitch happened just before, but all is forgiven!).  Part of the reason I like it so much is that the young people attend. It is like a reunion for my sons as well as myself since I have spent some time with most of them.  It feels good to wish everyone a “Merry Christmas” on this night. We get to bed in the wee hours of Christmas morning and waking up a few hours later is always interesting. I like that “fatigued” feel as the boys stumble down the stairs to greet their stockings first. Christmas breakfast this year was bacon and challah french toast with real maple syrup. No rushing, as dinner at Emily’s was in the late afternoon. We would part ways here as my youngest was having dinner with his girlfriend’s family.

And Emily-what can I say about Emily?  Do you remember when I talked of my gift to her in my last post?  It turns out that she purchased the same one for me! I had thought she would not have time to read my story given her busy holiday preparations. Wrong! We had a good laugh and of course confirmed our close connection with one another. Dinner and conversation were a redux of Christmas Eve- a warm and wonderful day; you could not ask for more.  My oldest and I ended our evening with our annual viewing of  the movie “It’s a Wonderful Life”- the perfect metaphor and reminder that all you need is not out in the world but right in front of you.

I caught a glimpse of my future when my finance’ arrived with has daughter the day after Christmas.  This year was to be the first  that we all shared under one roof. I found myself digging out old recipes that I hadn’t made in years in anticipation of the time we would be sharing meals together. It felt good to revisit this part of my life. I made a huge meal on the 27th as seven of us would be breaking bread and opening presents together. When the boys, their girlfriends, my future stepdaughter, my finance’ and I sat down, I knew that  I was sharing this time with my family. It was positive and energizing-never draining.  Meal preparation and cleanup were a team effort-such a difference from years past.

The next night found the two of us back at Emily’s for a couples dinner with two of my other close friends.  Champagne was shared in celebration of our engagement.  The “kids” spent the evening together sharing pizza and visiting the local zoo to look at Christmas lights.

And today found us back with family-my fiance’s sister and her brood. Once again, I realized that this was to be my family too! More gifts and one unexpected one-a print of our choice for the time we would be sharing a home together. Incredible!

Tomorrow we end our week with a birthday celebration for my oldest son who was born on New Year’s Eve. He is the reason that I like the holiday as much as I do now. A child born with minutes to spare in the old year under the light of a blue moon! Very special indeed.

No matter the struggles, I am glad for the past, mindful of the present and hopeful for the future. I have all that I need right in front of me.

Second Day of Mourning

The second day of mourning is always grey,

When the grandeur of elaborate pain

Fades into a comprehensible dawn.

The asthmatic morning laboured to wheeze a few

Competent breaths to last from bus to school.

A grim visage canopies a lurching heart that still stumbles

In the quicksilver and endless corridors of remembering.

Mourning seems such a vain thing.

It cries aloud to be seen, solicits pity with

Conscious tears and wanton dysphoria,

Damns an implosion with a paradoxical front.

Trudging up the overhead bridge that prevent dented fenders

And stubborn bloodstains on the roads,

The sweaty morning clings onto my skin and sorrow

Weighing with the symbolism of exertion.

Gaston Ng

This post will be brief for there are no words that can aptly express the sense of  grief and shock regarding the tragedy in Newtown, Connecticut. The pain is real. For those of us who are parents, it is not too hard to imagine what it would be like to lose your child in such a violent and unexpected way. Our children are gifts that we give to ourselves. When they are taken from us, a big part of us goes with them.

Let us all hope and pray that this brutal incident will lead to a seismic shift in our culture and its glorification of violence. Too many lives have been  lost and we need to find ways to prevent carnage like this from happening again. Turn off your television,your computer, your cellphone. Throw out those video games, call your Senator and Representative so that common sense changes to our gun laws can be made. Spend time with your children. Read books together. Go for a walks. Play. Stay connected and pay attention to one another. Twenty-four people per day are victims of gunshot violence. There have been sixty-two incidences of mass killings in this country since 1982. It is time for all of us to start demanding a change.

Until tonight
my heart was just half full
I’d never known the fruit which fed the soul
but now I see what may put to rest my longing
for I have seen, the face of love
the grace of God, the face of love ~Jewel

“Don’t be afraid to ask for your wildest prayers.” Elizabeth-one of the yoga instructors at my studio- made this statement during a class some months ago.  It may even have been a year ago. No matter though.  It hit me hard in a good way. Many of us who struggle for long periods of time forget to ask for things beyond just getting through the day,the month or even the year. Of course, this kind of mindfulness matters.  At times of intense adversity, it really is important to stay focused on the task at hand. Conversely, one runs the risk of not thinking of the future and the good things that inevitably will come.

A wild prayer can be  a life prayer. At the time that I heard it from Elizabeth, I had not realized on a conscious level that I had been already begun the process of appealing for my wildest dreams. Five years ago, I felt unworthy of love and commitment. It was a perfectly normal feeling at the time-having been left after 18 years of marriage for “greener pastures”.  For Christmas that year, my oldest son had given me a beautiful purse. Inside were three music cds of artists he knew I loved to listen to. I would play the music endlessly as its lyrics and tunes resonated with my emotions at the time. Some of the songs spoke of love and commitment and I remember thinking: “Someday a better man is going to love me as I deserved to be loved.”

That thought went out into the universe as I went about my daily business of dismantling the marriage and simultaneously trying to hold myself and my sons together. Fast forward to eight months later as my sons and I are enjoying a week’s respite with my folks on the west coast of Florida. My parents flew the three of us down as we had just concluded a small celebration. In exchange for them being unable to attend, we got a treat of fun and sun with family and friends.

At the time, I had no idea that the trip would be the vehicle that would ultimately change my life for the better.  While my sons and I were enjoying a post race party and swim, I noticed a man wearing my local city’s baseball cap and shirt. I asked where he was from and he told me that he grew up some fifty miles from where I lived. He climbed into the pool next to me and the conversation didn’t end until two and half hours later! That evening, my mother asked me what I thought of him. I said that he was very nice-he certainly seemed to be a dedicated father and a spiritually grounded man. She, of course, went further in singing his praises (my parents had known him for a year and he was a member of their running club). I told her, however, that it could never work due to the long distance (1400 miles) and the fact that I wasn’t ready. She simply replied, “You never know.”

Of course, my mother was right!  Months went by and we corresponded by email and eventually by phone. For me it felt safe and easy. Then Thanksgiving arrived and he was due for a visit to his sister’s.  He asked if we could get together that weekend and I agreed.  We spent the day hiking, walking the beach and dining on Thai food. We ended our day at a local soap store where I commented to the owner that I was a “lavender chick”. When he took me home late that night, he presented me with a bar of lavender soap. I remember thinking: “Here’s a guy who pays attention!”

Looking back, it was then and there that my wildest prayers were beginning to be answered. Since then, we have managed to form a loving and everlasting bond that has stood the test of time,distance and many trials and tribulations. Additionally, we have spent time with each others children and have developed healthy relationships with them. I feel like his love for me has been heaven sent. After the trauma of an unhealthy marriage, I now realize and appreciate what it is like to be loved and respected as an individual.

This weekend we returned to the place where it all began. On a cold, snowy, late morning with Christmas in the air, he bought me a ring.  My heart felt full as he placed it on my finger declaring- in his own quiet way- his love for me. For the first time in forever, I feel utterly content and blessed with God’s amazing grace.  Elizabeth was right- your wildest prayers can come true!

Thanksgiving is for being you.
There are no thanks without you.

You are the power of hopeful promise;
you are the balky soil turning upon itself;
you are bursting forth in your experience.

You are not the person next to you–
not an image or an expectation.
You are the infinite and eternal you–
blessed, and loved, and consoled
by the utter commonness
and community of our souls. ~ John Fitzsimmons

“This was long overdue,” my youngest son said. We were sitting by the bonfire that his brother had built Saturday night. We were among a small group of friends (theirs and mine) who gathered on the frigid night to continue celebrating Thanksgiving.  The front porch and garage doors had been outfitted in Christmas lights and a beautiful buffet of hot food and beverages was on display inside the garage. It was a feast for the season-that is one for the cold, cold weather. Turkey chili, black bean soup, hot cider, homemade hot chocolate filled us up and warmed our bodies too.

My youngest son had dug the pit for the fire last spring. Previous to the unearthing, we had used a small metal pit, and by my son’s standards, it was far too small!  He was used to burning pallets and larger logs and decided that our yard needed the same. Thus began his project; one befitting his size and personality. Rocks and dirt are his thing and he set out to create what a friend of mine said was the biggest fire pit she had ever seen! The pit is perfectly circular. A berm of sorts was made in the front (more or less from the pile of grass and dirt left over from the dig) and the back is graced by large rocks that my son brought out from the woods by hand. The pit had been used a couple of times by the boys this summer while I was away.  I am sure a few friends “visited” for those occasions. Since I received no calls while I was gone,  I can safely assume that nothing major occurred -phew!

Since I had yet to enjoy my son’s masterpiece, Thanksgiving Saturday seemed a perfect time to assemble our friends and celebrate.  My oldest son and I spent most of Saturday getting ready. He is a terrific party planner and we always enjoy brainstorming ideas and then setting them into action. He is also a bit more calm in the execution as I have a tendency to worry about running out of time or forgetting things.  My friends are wonderful; they made the delicious main courses for the event. In fact, one of my friends had just redone her deck and had wood that she and her husband needed to get rid of. On Friday, Dan drove over a trailer full of it. We managed to get halfway through it-leaving plenty for a Christmas conflagration!

As you know from my most recent post, I am feeling particularly thankful this year. I suppose Saturday night was an example of my “Appreciation Celebration”.  But I am not sure that it belongs to only me. And this is where my son’s expression carries some weight. My youngest is a man of few words and when he does speak, his message is usually powerful and profound. I am sure that he had been reflecting upon deeper emotions and expressing a sense of inner peace. The bonfire was a metaphor for his feelings ( as well as his brother’s and mine). Especially, especially this year. We’ve grown as individuals as well as a family. It’s a beautiful thing to begin to feel more solid and whole within yourself and to be appreciated for who you are and loved unconditionally.

This time of year can be all about food and gifts and endless holiday obligations if we let it. But it is all so much more.  Truly it is a journey toward something bigger, something hard to define but easy to experience if we open ourselves up to it-something everlasting.

Are you “long overdue?”