Spring Footing

I have had insomnia of late. Last night I took to the deck so I could bathe in the full moonlight and try to tire my eyes reading accounts of the late great Prince and scratching some words down. The problem is my mind is a flurry--so many roots spilling forth in all directions that I don't feel rooted, lest I forget to do something needing doing. I wonder if we carry the seasons in our ribs. We must. Outside, spring is greening and quickening. All manner of blooms and bugs and birds alighting. I swear our asparagus crop shoots up 10 inches overnight. Our woods have gone wild again with poison ivy and ticks, little stirrings with every step through the ground cover as I search for morels so that it keeps me on edge as for the source. We had tulips slipping open but deer already made a home for them in their bellies. It's no wonder I can't sleep with all of this flourishing. No wonder I can't focus and quiet my mind when it too is a kind of spring. Another month and the flurry will slow and steady, shoots will harden into stems and branches. Our schedules will clear for a moment, I'll sleep. It happens again and again doesn't it--things seem hectic and overnight you catch a break until it starts all over again. It is a beautiful, wild thing--our living. As if the universe knows how much we can take and when to let up. I guess it takes a kind of grace to balance these seasons--a kind of faith to know things will root eventually. It matters not the strength of our footing. You could be holding onto a twig or a branch. It matters only that we are holding on.

Traffic

The bridge I drive across every day to take the kids to school is under construction until October. Which means I have to take the long, busy, stop-light laden way, which means leaving earlier and dealing with more cars that cut you off because everyone is in a hurry to get someplace. Which means we no longer get to pass by the two horses we usually see and remark on. Which means the way home takes twice as long. Today on the trek home--after a day of running errands and taking Phoenix to the doctor and sitting there for 2 hours for x-rays and waiting for her to be able to provide a urine sample with no time for lunch and a splitting headache--sitting through several light changes just to move a few feet, I had had enough. I guffawed and groaned and cursed the road. And then Fisher started in and both of us were lamenting 'come on, let's go already' at long lights and a sea of cars as if we were on an LA freeway during rush hour, as if our words would change things. Here he had spent the last 7 hours at school only to be let out to my frustration, only to make it bloom in him. Parents have the opportunity to teach their kids how to handle things by way of example and clearly my example was not something to mimic. And I thought about how this was to be our reality for the next 8 months so I either spend every day for 8 months annoyed by traffic or resign myself to our current fate and deal gracefully. In that moment I felt as if I became liquid as the frustration slid away and I embraced what was--just to be where I was in a car with my son I hadn't seen all day. "You know, Fisher," I said, "I don't want to spend every day getting mad at this road. At least we are together, so lets make the best of it." I asked him to come up with a way we could pass the time better. Hopefully I redeemed myself for my earlier negative outburst and showed him a better way to deal. It's not worth the energy it takes to complain and often our complaints do not and can not change a thing. Yes, the issue of traffic is rather small in the grand scheme, but the method of adapting gracefully is not at all.

2015 Holiday Letter

Fisher has his heart set on being Santa Claus when he grows up. I sometimes catch him sticking his head up the chimney to see how he's going to fit. 1st grade and he carries that magic. I tell him I believe he is already Santa, as he is giving and kind. He does well in school and his teachers love him. I sometimes worry that his tender heart will get tossed around by the rambunctious show-offs in his class and his kindness will get abused, but it helps that the girls all dote on him and that he has a good sense of humor. He loves to ride his bike and chop wood and build and treasure hunt. He is forever constructing and creating. The other day Phoenix came up to me and said Fisher told her he didn't care if he got any presents for Christmas, that he just wanted to be with his family and it made her eyes tear up. These kids are going to be fine.

When Phoenix isn't mimicking her big sister Ella's every move, she's singing, dancing, playing dolls, biking, making art, destroying the house, and making plans to take over the world. She has the kind of fire in her to do just that. Her teachers tell me she's the only preschooler in her class that understands sarcasm. She's tough. She's smart. She's watching your every move, which is appropriate as she wants to write stories when she grows up.

Ella has truly embraced her role as big sister after years of wanting a family to sit at the dinner table with, and to bond. For better or worse, she has it now! She too excels in school and has taken up speech and robotics this year. Most days she's traipsing about the woods with her headphones on singing at the sky. She still loves studying languages and I now know lots of random French, Swedish, and German words for various fruits. She went on a school trip to Europe this summer and now her heart is set on Ireland.

As for Matt and I, we are trying to pretend that planning a wedding is easy and hoping it'll all come together on its own as neither of us are good planners. It's set for July 16. I believe things are as easy or as complicated as you make them, so that's my plan--easy. Matt is still kicking it in sales for Learfguard and his hard work brought him the title of highest sales for the year again. When he isn't solving people's problems, he is on the riding lawn mower. Seriously, mowing until the sky spills its black ink. It's his new way of meditating. That and learning to play the banjo, or tinkering with the garden, or felling trees or creating a to-do list that'll take him years to accomplish. Big dreams to go with that big heart.

Me? Today I figured out how to use a ripsaw for the first time. Last week I sanded and stained all the interior doors. Before that I was probably painting or hauling or constructing something. I've discovered my own form of meditation. I started writing a children's book series, took on another scoring project for Pearson education, and was honored to be asked to help with editing and selecting works for my friend's new literary magazine, The Wax Paper, all the while running the household. I wouldn't trade it for anything. It is busy and hectic and messy (3 kids, 7 chickens and a dog will do that), but it is ours and we have each other--this family we have made. Our spirits are good.

My mother claimed recently how I have changed, how I seem more loving with her and my dad, not that I never showed love before. It's just different she says. I knew the answer to that straight off because I feel the change deep in my marrow--I have softened. This love that Matt and I share, these 3 intelligent and kind kids--it has given me a new measure for what my heart can do. It has redefined me. Frankly it has been at times a rocky year, but I have learned these things: your truth only matters to you and the people you hold dear. I learned how to forgive and let go. I've realized how lucky I am to have been raised by respectful and accepting parents. They have embraced Matt and Ella and our family wholeheartedly and continue to be a source of great support. I am lucky. And soft. And thankful. May all of you feel thankful and enjoy a peaceful holiday season. May you know your worth.

Let's Agree to Disagree

Matt and I went to Wooly's the night before Thanksgiving to see the Grateful Dead tribute band, the Schwag. Every time I have gone to see a concert there I am struck by the diverse age of the crowd. We span 5 decades, with hair styles that range from dread locks to slick backs to bald. Such different appearances, yet all of us gathered in the glow of stage lights and the guitar riffs of one of the most talented musicians I have seen. Up front and center on the floor was a group of super hippie hipsters in their 40's grooving and hollering "yeah, man" and trying to draw attention to themselves in a way to show how unique they were--not unlike goth kids who dress to be misunderstood so they can be treated with misunderstanding. Not unlike suburbanites and yuppies who accumulate lots of flash and think everyone wants what they have. Not unlike Republicans who think they know better, or Democrats who think their way is true. Not unlike religious extremists or gang members or PETA or the NRA. The list goes on, encompassing all sides.

Watching this group of aging hippies who never wanted to grow up I realized this--their energy was no different than the groups of people they would define as the enemies to their way of life. What all of these people (me and you included) have in common is the belief that they are right, and perhaps societies build these outward illusions that exclude others just to feed the idea that they are right. Matt used to have long hair and would be invited to attend shindigs by other people with long hair and dreads, The day he cut his hair they stopped calling. This exclusionary mentality only serves to feed the notion of us versus them, only serves to polarize humanity, thereby sabotaging their ability to ever truly connect and be understood.

And maybe we are all just a bunch of goth teenagers dressing in all back to fulfill the prophecy that we are misunderstood. Because it is easier to be a victim than to truly find solutions and compromise and let go of the ego so we can just get along. If you can't get beyond the notion that you are right and they are wrong than you will go nowhere. It only perpetuates the polarization and the outward display of this disconnect that sadly unfolds in headlines every day with mass shootings and terrorizing and debate. All at the expense of our HUMANITY. 

Someone reminded me this week of the phrase "agree to disagree." It stopped me in my tracks with its simplicity and timelessness. It made my heart feel unburdened, that I could finally move forward and not be stuck in a phase of trying to be right about something, which I have often been guilty of doing. We are all set in our ways--no one is immune. I realized I had been clutching to my ego and my sense of truth. But we all have a different sense of truth. If we don't surrender to that notion then we go nowhere. What matters more than being right is connecting. What matters most is peace. To say let's agree to disagree doesn't diminish your own truth, but it does get rid of the roadblock to real peace and understanding. Understanding that we are all a lot more similar than our words and ideologies suggest, which is at the core - human beings - all seeking a way, all searching for love and kinship. All of us seeking acceptance. Ghandi said "be the change you wish to see in the world" so maybe if we all love and accept ourselves the world will finally be a mirror for peace.

On the Path

I remember driving home to my old house--the first house I lived in when I moved to Des Moines a few years back. It was near the bike trail on a beautiful owl-filled oak-lined street. The houses were well kept, the neighbors were friendly, deer and fox would often be milling about. And yet despite the beauty something in my knew it was not where I was supposed to be, as every time I would feel blanketed by the sense: is this my life? Is this what I am going to be doing for the next 50 years--driving this road? At the time I didn't know what that meant. Here I am on this quaint street yet I felt a cloud of unease. I chalked it up to not wanting to feel stuck (I had traveled a lot and never lived anywhere for long), or not being ready to join the ranks of that kind of adulthood. Looking back now I realize that feeling was my guiding spirit telling me it wasn't the right path, that my life was due for a shake up. And so it did.

Sometimes that feeling of unease is the result of delving into the unknown--challenging yourself to follow your dreams without knowing the outcome. But it doesn't just come from facing fears, it comes from an intuitive spirit that knows the course we need to take. It means not that we are restless, but that we are due for a change, that this path isn't meant for us and we need to be open and fearlessly walk through those future doorways when they come. It is saying be ready. 2 years ago I met the love of my life. Just over a year ago we moved to this home on 2 acres on the edge of the city--a distance I never imagined I would choose as I never wanted to be near the suburbs. And now driving home on this windy, tree hemmed road with pockets of deer and raccoons and groundhogs, I finally know what it feels like to be home. No longer questioning--is this my life? The only thing I feel is awe and gratitude. This is where I am supposed to be.

About a Boy

My son Fisher (7 years of age) is my big dreamer. On Monday after school he headed straight to the garage and with hammer, nails, and wood scraps, began building a table. He asked me if he could use the big slab of plywood for the top as he wanted to make a big table and sell it for a thousand dollars (he's saving up to buy a car and a home for his future wife). This is the kid who had lemonade stands all summer to earn money--and no wonder--most people stopped to just give him all their change because, as they said, he was just so cute. I explained he needed to start small and work his way up to fine construction, reminded him of those lemonade stands and told him next year he can have a produce stand and sell our eggs and pumpkins and the like. Trying to tell a kid that things take time is like trying to pocket the stars.

On Tuesday he came home from school and set out a table and chairs under the apple tree. He picked a peck of apples and he and I enjoyed them right there, all the while I listened to him talk about how he wanted to invent something but couldn't decide just what since so much has been invented and can he sell his invention in stores.

On Wednesday he tied a box to the back of his bike and rode around the yard collecting who the heck knows what. He kept exclaiming how much he loved it here--this house, this land. And then he found a toad and named it Acorn and built it a home. He and I got sledge hammers and tore apart the old wooden planter box that sat at the top of the hill to revamp the landscape with stone we found and hauled from deep in the woods. Our hands in the dirt, rich with roots and bulbs and worms, I reminded him how growing things takes time and nurturing. Look at what we've done here--we remodeled most of the house, built a tree house and chicken coop and fence, landscaped, started a garden, planted trees and cleared out much of the old stuff the previous owners had let go--all in just over a year. And everything we do we learn, especially when it comes to gardening. We see what works and how to improve next year. It's a lot like life I told him--you've got to nurture it and give it time to grow, figure out what works and what doesn't, and learn the patience that comes from enjoying every stage of growth. It's about being present. What a gift it is to watch this boy grow. I can't wait to see what he goes out to do in this world, but for now he's all mine.

A Simple Message

Today I watched the sun rise alongside bird song. It is hard to capture the light inching across the ribs of clouds that line the sky. One minute it is just a blush in the east and before you know it the light reaches everywhere you look. It reminds me of autumn trees. Just a few weeks ago the leaves here had hardly turned. There's a red maple we pass on the drive to school and every day I point it out to the kids--telling them to notice its beauty every day because once it turns it doesn't last long before they leave the tree barren. Phoenix asked me why she should be looking at the trees and I told her because as her mom I feel it is my job to teach her how to see the beauty in the world every day, in even the simplest of things like a tree in a ditch beside a parking lot. To me that is one of the most important life skills I can teach them--being able to appreciate the simple beauty that surrounds them so they grow up contented and able to see the light side of things no matter the struggles they face. And because I want them to be able to be satisfied in this world that people often tend to over-complicate. I get a lot of advice-seeking messages from people who are struggling with hard times and always I point out their positive traits to remind them of their strength and their beauty. It's in you at all times so how could we not get through. Wherever you are, whoever you are--the sun is up and the trees that just a week ago were full are halfway barren. You will get through before you know it.