Pas De Deux

This weekend we went to see The Nutcracker at the Houston Ballet. I love the ballet. As art goes, and I love art, ballet has to be my favorite. At this moment. I've probably seen the Houston Ballet Nutcracker a dozen or so times. Now, though, I not only enjoy it, I have the perspective to enjoy others enjoying the performance.

The lobby was full of families at the Saturday matinee we attended. The little children, all dressed up in their fancy holiday clothes, the matching dresses, the shiny and sparkly shoes, the brushed hair and smiling excited faces created a happy swirling pool of activity. I could have stood in a corner for hours observing.

My nephew, aged 2, was sitting in the row in front of me. He is all activity, all the time, 100% boy in motion. He sat, mesmerized, for the entire performance, absolutely still, leaning forward in his chair. At intermission his only complaint was, "I want more dancing now!" My own children, and my niece were enthralled as well, even though all of them have seen it before.

There was a little girl sitting behind me, Katherine, and she absolutely delighted me throughout the performance. Her comments and expression were priceless. When the Arabian Dancers came on stage in the second act, she gasped, and said, "Ah! What's that?! That is beautiful!" As she watched their piece, she said, almost under her breath, "Oh, it's so pretty!" It actually brought tears to my eyes. Indeed it was a highlight of the performance.

Ballet for me is like beautiful kinetic sculpture. We were sitting close enough to see every muscle in the legs of the dancers. Their legs are beautiful, controlled, strong, while their upper bodies are floating. I think about the amount of work that goes into being a dancer, performing in one of the nations best companies. I think the preparation required is more than how people prepare to make any other kind of art. The dedication, the discipline, the work from childhood that only gets more intense. I admire the dancers who have the ability to accomplish their goal of being the beauty we get to enjoy.

The costumes were beautiful, the lighting enhanced the performance, the musical score by Tchaikovsky is delightful. However, the pas de deux, is my favorite. Watching the two dancers flow across the stage, grace and quiet but spectacular movement, the costumes, the care and control of the male dancer, the trust of the female dancer all make this particular aspect of ballet the ultimate for me. My heart leaps into my throat, and stays there for the whole piece. The dancers become the only thing in my universe for those few moments. But it was even better this time. As the Sugar Plum Fairy floated on to the stage for the grand pas de deux, Katherine gasped, "Ah! Who's that Pretty in Pink?!"

Feeling the Love

Today I did nothing in particular, which was very special. It was a whole day and evening, with hardly any specific plans. I, in fact, really tried hard to keep today more simple than most of the rest of my days. Having an unscheduled day was my gift to myself. Today is my birthday.

Call me crazy, but the thing I most wanted to do today was get my desk cleared. I focused on it, and I was actually done, with a few breaks, by 11:00am. It made me feel so good all day. I'm not finished with all the tasks, but at least all the tasks have a place now. (I know, this sounds terribly compulsive, but it has really been bugging me, so it feels great to have it done.)

I did get to see a couple of friends at various points during the day, and my children and I made sushi for dinner. My parents called and left a singing message on my voice mail. I actually talked with them later.

However, the most remarkable thing that happened today is the outpouring of love and birthday wishes from friends around the world. I am so grateful for the people I love, and for the many people who care about me. I received cards in the mail, emails, e-cards, phone calls, text messages, and LOTS of birthday wishes on Facebook.

I reached a milestone a few days ago. I added my 500th Facebook friend. I didn't think it was possible for anyone to have 500 friends, but really, I have heard from so many today, it has blown me away.

So today, I celebrate you, the people I love so much, who care about me. I am grateful for each and every one of you, and for the many wonderful ways you touch my life. Thank you.

The Magic of Coit Tower

It always starts with my first glimpse of Coit Tower. It is that feeling that pervades me that magic really does happen here. San Francisco is a magical place.

Coit Tower always reminds me of my uncle, Jeff, who I visited in this wonderful city for a week several years ago. The first place we met up upon our arrival was at the Tower. The view of the city, the bay, the bridges were breathtaking. Jeff then proceeded to lead us down the hill, through people’s gardens, telling us about all the people he had known who lived there. We even saw wild parrots along the way. At that point in time, Jeff had lived in San Francisco over 25 years. He continued to fascinate me, with the insider’s view of this beautiful city, and stories and insight into my own family as well. I feel his spirit here still.

The fog keeps the area shrouded in mystery. It is so beautiful the way it flows over the hills, and then retreats, revealing patches of blue, which then disappear. It is like the mystery is revealed, but only briefly. Little glimpses of the city that sparkles.

When we arrived this week, we headed from the airport directly to the Ferry Terminal building. It was cloudy when we first arrived, and then the sun peeked out for a few moments, revealing Coit Tower atop Telegraph Hill in the distance.

Having a child along on a trip always reminds me to see the magic. Not that I need much of a reminder here. As she was skipping along the sidewalk, she said, “There are sparkles in the sidewalk! It is like it is filled with diamonds or something.” Diamonds indeed. Everywhere there are little gems I observed.

I got here, and was so completely flooded with things I wanted to write, that I was completely overwhelmed. At last my brain had an opportunity to think about something other than my daily to do’s. It actually took me until half way through this journey to be able to still my busy thoughts, and then let my mind flow.

I can’t let myself get that overwhelmed by my life that I forget to observe, and to allow time to record my observances. I must find a way to carve out some time to process things. To linger and enjoy experiences instead of rushing from thing to thing, always rushing. To allow myself to be. To just be.

We are staying in a beautiful house on Tomales Bay. A moving blanket of fog usually tops the green hills across the water. The bay is alive, with different water birds about at all hours. The water can be smooth as glass or choppy as the wind increases. Gorgeous flowers bloom all around. Wild fennel abounds with its yellow lace on thin pale stalks. Hummingbirds hover over red blooms near the deck. Succulents abound on this, the dry side of the bay. There are wild artichokes. There are gray foxes plentiful in the woods ad tall grasses, peeking out and darting along.

Yesterday, I managed a 3-mile hike in my boot. (A week before our departure, I injured my foot somehow. I managed to partially tear a tendon. I have a walking boot thing, which is great, and a cane, which I quickly abandoned.) We hiked around Abbott’s Lagoon, out to the tidal pools of the Pacific. There were few other people on the trail. It was so unspoiled that we could see the paths where deer had walked through the brush, and found a place to lie down. We saw rabbits, and many different birds, hawks, jays, pelicans, quail.

We found a sunny beach, and settled to relax and soak up the sun before the fog eclipsed it again. We had a picnic, with perfect eggs, chicken salad, fresh tomatoes and mozzarella…

The fresh food here is amazing. We had artichokes for dinner last night, with delicious olive oil and lemon. We have dined at The Slanted Door in San Francisco, Chez Panisse in Berkeley, and eaten peaches, dripping with juice over the sink in our kitchen. The markets have such gorgeous local delicious things to eat. With all the fresh fruits, vegetables, fish, eggs, local cheeses and breads…it is food heaven.

A few nights ago, on our way back from a day trip to Berkeley, there was a deer standing right in front of us, at the side of the road, just after the comment, “I haven’t seen a single deer crossing sign.” There she was, a beautiful deer, staring right at us. I said, “I haven’t seen any bear crossing signs either.” Somehow, I don’t think it works like that, Lisa, was the quip returned. Well, this place is magic, and maybe it does. The trip isn’t over yet, and I will find my bear. After all, Coit Tower is somewhere out there on a hill in the distance, occasionally peeking through the fog.

The Other Mother

On this Mother's Day, I have been thinking of the mother I have become. I think of the person who grew from who I was, into who I am now, and the lessons my children have taught me. I also think of my own mother, and her profound influence on my life, in good times and in not so good times. I wonder what it is like to have a daughter who is a mother. I hope to know someday. My daughter is only seven years old, so I hope it isn't for a while, but I hope to have that experience.

My children have tried to appreciate me today by not arguing or complaining. It has been awesome. I have loved the tranquility. The few spats have quickly diffused. All four of them have done precious and wonderful things on their own for me.

However, on Mother's Day especially, I think of another mother. My daughter Daisy is from China. She was adopted when she was 18 months old. I wonder what her birth mother thinks? I wonder if she thinks about Daisy daily. I wonder how she could endure the terrible pain of being forced to give up her newborn baby. Often the abandonment of baby girls is forced by the father, or the father's family. The population control policies in China have influenced the practice of abandoning baby girls, and special needs children. Often, the abandoned babies are not first children. So, not only does Daisy have a birth mother in China, it is likely she has an older sister as well. She will not be able to track her family of origin because leaving her was a crime, so they will never be identified. It is a tragedy to lose a child. It is also a tragedy to lose a mother. I imagine the grief lasts forever.

But, I also hope that somewhere in her heart, Daisy's other mother, and the other mothers of all the children who are given up for adoption know that their babies are loved and cherished; and adoptive mothers are so grateful to those with the courage to part with their babies, creating other families. I hope that they feel the gratitude and the love we have for them, and the children they have allowed us to mother.

So, mothers, give your babies a hug. Children, give your mothers a hug. Appreciate that bond that never will go away. Even if our mothers (and babies) are not physically present, the bond is forever. Happy Mother's Day.

For Mothers

I've had little time to write lately. I've been very busy being a mother. So, when a friend sent me this link today, I took a moment to appreciate myself, my mother, and all my friends and their mothers. This is from author Kelly Corrigan I hope you all enjoy this as much as I did. Happy Mother's Day. Click here (it is the May 2 video post)

Being Brave

My friend Katherine Center's new book comes out today. It is called Get Lucky. I know a little of her story, her education, her struggles to be "a writer of important literature," and her bravery to decide to write what was in her all along. Bravery is trusting yourself. Bravery is trusting your strength. Bravery is trusting your support system. Bravery is being willing to take a risk, and knowing that no matter what happens, you are somehow a slightly different version of you because you tried.

Katherine is the one responsible for me actually writing this blog (as opposed to talking about wanting to write.) I've talked about writing forever, but writers all have one thing in common, as I may have mentioned....they write. You have to try. You have to trust. You have to be willing to take that risk.

Today you are my hero, Katherine. I'm glad you were brave with your life. Thanks for inspiring me to be brave with mine.

Decide....and GO

Last night, my son and his youth group lead the Friday evening service at our synagogue. I was, of course a proud mama. I was also feeling very rewarded as a teacher, seeing many of my former students use some of the skills I helped them cultivate with regard to speaking in public. However, none of this is what is sticking in my mind today.

One of my former students delivered a short speech, a sermon of sorts. The theme of the evening was "The Ten Plagues of Today" since we are currently celebrating the Jewish holiday of Passover, and the retelling of the Exodus story of the People of Israel from Ancient Egypt. Her topic was "The Plague of Indecision."

Life presents many forks in the road, so to speak. Times we much make a choice, or a decision to go one way or another. We can agonize over every detail. I know I do. We can over analyze, waver back and forth, and sometimes not decide. I know when I was younger I used to flip a coin. I knew that I had made a choice even when I didn't think I had, because if the winning side of the coin either was a relief, or a disappointment. Then, I went with the decision I had already made.

I remember the absolute agony when I was going through the process of my divorce. SO, not what you are thinking right now. The agony was over if I should go back to my maiden name, or keep my married name. I had my married name over 17 years. It was one of those decisions that just ate me up. I remember ranting to my sister-in-law, because I had been told by my attorney that I needed to decide in the next hour (after weeks of struggling with this.) Finally, my sister-in-law interrupted me and said, "Stop. Do you feel like Lisa Serebrin, or do you feel like Lisa Brooks?" Well, honestly, my response to that question was so simple. "I'm Lisa Brooks." Decision made. Huge relief. Plague lifted.

Another very important thing that I have learned is that there are very few decisions we make in life that are not able to be changed. It is ok to change your mind, change your focus, or change your goal. If something is not working, recognizing that, and then making a decision to change is a key to success, to opening the doors to new opportunities.

Resolution, decision, conviction and then moving forward is such an empowering feeling. I often meditate on the word clarity. If I can clear the "noise" from my mind, I often find that clarity that I need to make a decision is already there. All I have to do is open the door and walk through.

My New Yorker Cartoon Life

Sometimes, I wake up and I think, “How did I get here?” It still amazes me that this is how my life has unfolded. If you had asked me as a new college graduate, almost 25 years ago, “Lisa, what are your life goals?” my response would have been, “To raise a successful family.”

So, I guess my overall goal hasn’t changed, but my mental picture of how it would all unfold was not at all what reality presented. I suppose the young idealistic me saw the family, the loving couple, the home, the smart, happy, beautiful children, the ability to do volunteer work, and spend my time making the world a better place, and being the best wife and mother I could possibly ever be.

When I actually write it all down, the only thing that has truly changed is the loving couple part. I was asked a couple of times in the last week for some advise or encouraging words about being on the other side of divorce. I guess this is my response. Am I happy? YES! Am I glad that I am a single mother? NO! Is it (ever) easy? HELL NO! Is it different from being married? YES!

How is my life now different? Well, it is much less stressful in a lot of ways. My ex-husband still manages to do things that make me react with stress, but on the whole, it is les stressful than it was the last couple of years of our marriage. A lot of my married life was good, but I have realized that the things that are really important to me haven’t changed.

What else has changed? Well, I am currently working two jobs. The third job mercifully ended because I am dealing with at least two major chronic illnesses, and three jobs was not smart, except from a financial standpoint. My health suffered, and my family suffered. I am working, however, on developing a writing career, so I am working another job, but it is different.

The other thing that causes stress that was not a source of stress before is time management. Since I am doing the two jobs, the career development, the health management job (huge task) and I am not driving at all any more (health again) the logistics of how to fit it all in, and have the time and energy for my most important job of being a good mother, I find that I am always juggling, and stamping out fires.

It is quite a visual. I can practically see a New Yorker cartoon of me… A petite middle-aged woman, Juggling two teenagers, two younger children, talking on the phone booking a client, with papers strewn about working on a lesson plan, and “fires” like house repairs, court appearances, scholarship applications, planning a bar mitzvah, etc. are flaring around my feet. The tiny petite figure has a flurry of activity where her legs should be, trying to deal with the fires. I’m actually laughing as I write my cartoon with words. It is comical, but it is real. And, then there is the whole health thing…

A friend recently told me I was the graceful duck, gliding across the water, but underneath the surface, my feet were going a million miles a minute to keep me afloat. YES.

I am afraid that this is coming across as pathetic, but that is not at all how I see my life. I am happy. I love my life. I have learned that I am one of the strongest people I know. I have learned to ask for help. Some. I have learned that most of what I envisioned as a new college graduate is still the same. I am still raising a family, four happy, smart, beautiful children. I am a good mother, even though I wish I could dedicate more of my time to just being supermom. I still live in a beautiful home. I still do volunteer work. I still have the same goal of making the world a better place.

The happy loving couple part will have to wait. I can’t see how to draw that into my cartoon. Yet.

Generosity

"Lisa--this made me cry. My heart is full." This was an email I received from a friend yesterday. Stories of generosity inspire me. This email was a follow up to something that had begun earlier in the day. She has a friend who is terminally ill. She wanted to be able to give him a little vacation, a sort of Make a Wish, but for a grown up. Her goal was to find a place he could stay for a week in a house by a river.

I passed along the request to a friend who owns such a house. She not only embraced the idea, she said, "of course, it would be an honor. I have wanted to use the house to serve in meaningful ways. I wish we could do more to help him."

The view from where I sit is beautiful. A friend with a home, a friend with a need, a friend who is surrounded and supported by a community, even by those they do not know makes everyone feel good; those with the ability to give, and the grace to receive.

Mothers

"Can you have a crush on your mother?" This was a question posed to me by a dear friend who lost her mother last week. "Because if you can, I definitely did," she continued, "I could never get enough of her." Her mother was a lovely woman. Her children, in trying to describe her in a single word, used the word "joy." My own memories of her are of a lovely woman, always the most gracious, smiling, nurturing, non-judgmental, happy flurry of activity. People craved spending time with her because you felt like you were the most important person in the universe when you were with her. The world is different because Mrs. Craft is not here.

We don't all have this mother. Some of us take care of our mothers. For some, this is a life long relationship, mothering our mothers. I have friends who are in this role. For some of us, this happens only later in life. Some of us never have the opportunity to mother our mothers. Some of us have very stormy relationships with our mothers, and some have no relationship at all.

As a mother, and as a daughter, I can say with certainty that most mothers want nothing more than the absolute best for their children. Love, happiness, health, peace, success, a life of ease, and passion for your chosen path...these would be many of my wishes for my own children. I know that my mother has similar wishes for me.

I can imagine how scary it is when you have a child who has serious life issues--illness, abuse, loss of a livelihood, spouse, or a child. The fear of losing a child is the worst fear I've ever experienced. As a mother, you just want to fix it. You don't want your baby to suffer. How do you react as a mother if something happens to your baby, even if your baby is a successful adult? I would think that everyone has a different reaction, with the same goal. Some mothers would likely step in and silently take care of everything. Some mothers would probably create a sense of learned helplessness, "you are sick, you can't possibly do this." Some would completely disappear, overwhelmed. And then there are those who keep pushing their children as if there is nothing different happening.

Having had chronic illness almost my whole life, I have my mother to thank, at least in part, for my attitude that my illness is not an excuse for anything. There is no way that my illness was ever allowed to be used as a reason for lack of success. Sometimes I need help, and it is given. Sometimes I want help and I don't get exactly what I want from my mother. However, I am always grateful for the help I am given. I am thankful that I have a mother who cares so much. And, I am eternally grateful for my attitude. I am thankful that I have my mother. Several of my friends recently have lost their mothers. I think that no matter what age you are when this happens, you must feel like an orphan.

I wonder how my children perceive me? Do they think I take care of them, or they take care of me? Will this be different when they are grown? As a mother, I am always refining what I do as a parent. I am always learning how to be a better mother. My children are my teachers, my role models are my teachers, my mother is my teacher, my grandmothers were my teachers. Motherhood is a journey. I hope that as a mother, my children have the same perception of me as the children of Mrs. Craft do. Like a good vacation, or a great book, you never quite want the journey to end..."Mother leaves us wanting just a little bit more."

Just One Amazing Thing?

This week I went to the book launch of an author friend, Chitra Divakaruni. Her new book is called One Amazing Thing. She read a couple of excerpts from the book, and told some stories about her process as a writer and some stories about her life. The characters in the book take turns telling one amazing thing about their lives, while all are in a very difficult, potentially life threatening situation.

So of course, my thoughts immediately went to what my "one amazing thing" would be. Instantly I thought, well, of course, it is that I am the mother of four children, who I am raising to be good solid members of their communities. It is a remarkable feat. I guess if I was going to say what I'm most proud of, it would be that I'm the mother of four amazing people. That is absolutely an amazing thing, but it is not what I am going to choose for this blog entry. So what am I going to choose?

A few years ago, I had begun to see the threads that would eventually unravel my marriage. I had recently made it through cancer surgery, and chemo, and the after effects, recovery, having a child with profound learning and some mild personality differences, and being a mom, wife, friend, daughter, sister... and I was trying to focus on what was next. I felt like my life was beginning to run away with me. I felt like I was moving in a very random way, and not accomplishing much. Out of the blue, like she was asking me to go have a cup of tea, my mother said, "Do you want to go to the Himalayas with me?"

"YES!" was my immediate response. I hadn't really thought about it, but YES, hell yes. We would be gone 21 days. I had not been away from my all children for more than a couple nights at a time, and not that even very often. I busied myself with making arrangements, depending very heavily on my amazing friends to entertain, cook, schlep, and care for my children. I think they all knew how much I needed to go. They made it happen.

So, when the reality hit that I was actually going, just a few short days before departure, I set about packing. Wow, I guess this is really happening! When I got on the plane, I immediately grabbed the in-flight magazine, and turned to the map. I honestly had not really a clue where I was going. I trusted my mom as she made all the plans. So, Bhutan, Nepal, and Tibet. WOW.

Actually, the beginning of this being one amazing thing was that I totally let go and allowed my mom to take care of everything. I just trusted that all would be fine. It was very freeing. Being on a plane for 30 hours, you lose all sense of time. However, time was not of any concern to me whatsoever. Eat when hungry, sleep when tired, brush teeth sometimes. As we flew toward Bangkok, the sky was dark black and cloudless. It was filled with stars, and then the moon rose, a huge glowing crescent floating over the South China Sea, like a hammock peacefully cradling the night. Beauty. Simple, quiet beauty. Amazing, beauty is always there if you just open your eyes and look.

Then, after a whirlwind 24 hour tour of the bustling, busily modernizing city of Bangkok, we again boarded a plane and flew on to Paro, Bhutan. Bhutan is the most peaceful place on earth. It is breathtaking in beauty, simplicity, and happiness. I hiked, pushed well beyond what I thought I could do physically, took some awesome photographs, and made a wonderful friend. Something happened in Bhutan and also on the rest of the trip. I realized that when I reached out my hand for help, there was a strong hand waiting to grab it and pull me along.

We met people, shared food, went to festivals, got stuck in traffic jams on the single road in the whole of Bhutan, hiked, slept, and I.....exhaled. I began to breathe. My mind began to unclutter. I enjoyed the sights, sounds, smells, experiences, and insights.

Kathmandu was a stark contrast. A bustling, not very clean, noisy place. There was a coup when we were in town. Evidently that is not so unusual in Nepal. It was fascinating, full of so many interesting things, surprises, and a totally different type of beauty. It is very crowded. People in Kathmandu must be so much a part of the community, they just live and help each other. There is not space for too much independence. I experienced such generosity and friendliness at every turn.

Flying from the pace and crowds of Kathmandu, past Mt. Everest, over the Tibetan plateau was an amazing contrast. Stark, empty beauty was all we could see. Sand, and little streams, and absolutely no vegetation. We landed in Lhasa. The sites in Tibet were awe inspiring. I can't even begin to describe the Tibetan experience. The words that come to mind just now are light, methodical pace, determination, and faith. I hiked in Tibet, at 15,000 feet. I saw Buddhist monasteries and dedicated monks and nuns working on the daily tasks, doing what they needed to do, always with smiles, nods, and generosity.

I couldn't believe how fast three weeks passed. I had experienced a journey of self discovery, physically, emotionally, mentally. I had leaned so much about myself, that I am so much stronger than I ever imagined. I had made a wonderful friend. So, I would say that my One Amazing Thing was that this time helped me figure out how to move forward. The symbol for my life for the next couple of years was the endless knot. It twists and turns, and yet, there is always a path. There was always a path on the challenging hikes also. And there was always a hand waiting to help guide me. If I could just keep taking tiny steps forward, focus, and stay on the path, I would reach my goal.

Transparency and Walls

Metaphors were the name of the game today. I went to the hear El Anatsui, an artist, talk about his installation, Gli (wall) at the Rice Gallery at a lunchtime gallery talk. I went with a friend and her son. The work was incredible. It was a beautiful, colorful mesh of metal, made from the tops of liquor bottles. His walls were moving with breeze, and were transparent, and lovely. It was a warm feeling that was created by the work, and the people you could see walking throughout the gallery admiring it. In a statement about the work, Anatsui said, "I think that walls are human constructs that are meant to block views, but they block only the view of the eye...not the imaginative view."

I was enjoying standing there, enjoying the art, enjoying being out doing something fun. There have been so many health related changes in my life, it is sometimes hard to keep up. I feel like the stuff I have enjoyed in the past, I haven't done quite as often. I spend a lot of time dealing with doctors, insurance companies, red tape. I spend a lot of time being more tired than I would like. However, today's art made me think about all this stuff in a bit of a different way.

Most people have had the feeling of being blocked by an obstacle in their path, as we go through life. I am feeling like sometimes lately, rather than a stumbling block, that the obstacle is a wall. I can't see what is on the other side. However, being in the gallery today, and seeing these walls, shifted my thinking to a different perspective. I am working now on visualizing what life looks like on the other side of the wall...and keeping the images of the beautiful transparent walls in mind. When the Berlin wall came down, it was a time of joy, and reuniting--healing what had been broken. The Western Wall in Jerusalem is a wall of prayer and faith, and it symbolizes survival. I can now see that the wall currently staring me in the face in my life is a temporary obstacle, and I will get around it, over it, or plow right through to the other side...to embrace what I can see in my mind's eye.

Release

I have had the opportunity recently to practice what I preach, so to speak. I am always suggesting to my children to try to understand another person's point of view, and to also know that you don't ever know a person's back story. You don't know what has happened in a person's experience to shape them as a person, or even to influence their actions at a certain point in time.

Yesterday, I was the recipient of a venomous attack by a very close relative. It was intended to be hurtful, and it was. I won't say that it came out of nowhere, because it seemed like it almost always smolders under the surface of his dealings with me. I know that I did not deserve to be attacked like I was, but it still was very hurtful. My initial reaction was shock, then hurt, then anger, then came sadness. I am happy to say that there was no guilty feeling, which is a big improvement from the way I have perceived things in the past.

I walked around feeling so angry for a large part of the day. Anger always leaves me feeling a little bewildered. I do question myself (without guilt) honestly to see if I did anything leading up to this attack which warranted it. Actually, nothing warrants this sort of behavior, but not everyone feels that way. I was cogitating on how to respond, or if to respond. Finally, I decided to respond.

My response was very much from the heart. I explained my perspective, calmly and rationally. I also explained that the only really important thing to me was to spend time with people I love, and those people included the attacker and his family. I also said that I didn't really understand where his anger was coming from, but that I didn't deserve to bear the brunt of it. I know he must be very angry, or hurt, or frightened, or jealous about something, or there is something going on in his life that I don't know about or understand that might cause him to act in such a way. I also know that I can't change what he perceives. I do know though, that I can change how I react.

So, I chose to react and respond honestly and as gracefully as possible. I am sure it won't change his actions, but hopefully he can come to understand that there is no intention of malice on my part. I felt so much better after my response. My anger fizzled into nothing. I am not feeling hurt, because I have chosen not to take his attack personally. I am still sad that he has chosen to remove himself and his family from a gathering we had planned, and maybe from my life entirely for right now, but I also know that I will enjoy the family who does participate in the gathering. The release of my anger and hurt, and the change in my perspective--the view from where I sit, is what makes the difference.

No one can control the actions of another, but we can all control, albeit with some practice, how we react. So, here's to healthy perspectives on family (and other) relationships.

Focus

Last Sunday, a group of local alumni from my college took a pot-luck dinner to a group of students and staff who had come down from Pennsylvania on their winter break to do some recovery work from Hurricane Ike. It has been 16 months since the storm and there is still plenty of work to be done. It was a fun evening, hearing stories, meeting students, and sharing our experiences in college, and memories from our own hurricane experiences.

Monday I went to my liver doctor for a follow up, during which the "transplant" word was discussed, and then got a call from my neurologist, who told me he had "interesting news." Interesting is not usually a good thing with my health. This was the beginning of a VERY intense week in the health saga. I saw a lot of doctors, had a lot of tests, and there is more fun yet to come. Sometimes things get so intense it is hard to know which crisis deserves to be front and center in my focus.

Tuesday a catastrophic earthquake hit in Haiti. My focus immediately shifted away from my own nonsense. Hundreds of thousands of people could be dead or die as a result of this horrific event. So, instantly nothing in my life seems bad at all, because there are these thousands of people experiencing unimaginable horrors in a very acute situation.Haiti is in crisis mode, but even after the initial intensity passes, the lives of these people have changed forever. The road back to "normal" will not be an easy straight path, but a winding and rocky one. Even if the people are not themselves injured, they have lost their homes, family members, friends, livelihood, truly, lost their lives as they have know them. Things will never be the same.

In Galveston, Hurricane Ike left physical destruction that can be measured, and assessed, and repaired, but there is also an emotional toll that can't be quantified. The fact that the Catastrophic Relief Alliance from Franklin and Marshall College, last week, were doing framing and dry wall on a hurricane damaged house 16 months later speaks to how long the physical recovery takes. What about the psychological repairs?

Everyone is mobilizing to provide immediate aid to Haiti to deal with the acute needs for food, medicine, water are being addressed by an international community. However, there will be a need for a long time to come.

A friend posted this on her Facebook status this week: (Thanks, Sara!)
"Taking the time to help others...helps to take the focus off of personal circumstances and redirects that focus in a more positive way..."

In thinking about ways to help the people in Haiti, while being reminded that there are still people in my own back yard in Galveston, Texas who need help, and that there are willing and generous volunteers to provide help and support has completely shifted my focus from my own health saga to how can I help others get through these very difficult times.

Interestingly enough, there may be a way that the group from my college does some fund raising to send aid to Haiti, and I may be able to help them with a coordinated effort here. So, yes, I have been distracted and busy this week, but not because of my medical needs. Instead I am focusing on how I can help others, even while I rely on others to help me in some ways.

I have also been awe-struck this week at the willingness of people to jump in and help me with driving, medical appointments...my mom even came in from Austin to help for a day. I have such great support, and I am always so grateful for this. I feel like the luckiest person in the world.

Warm Cookies on a Cold Night

Here I am, in my house, where it smells fantastic because I just baked cookies. It is cold outside. Very cold for Houston, TX, with lows tonight in the 20's and the next two nights forecast in the teens. I needed to warm things up a bit, both because it was cold outside, and because it was a heck of a crazy day.

Today started with taking one of my sons to his therapy appointment. I had to discuss the latest saga in the chapter of the-father-of-my-children with the therapist to prepare for what could come up in conversation. The outcome? All this particular child seems to want is to learn to play the electric guitar. Ah, to be nine years old, and still in the age of innocence, at least in his case. The electric guitar is very do-able.

Second on the agenda was a surprise visit to a neurologist for me. I have been having trouble with my eyes, specifically my eye muscles, as well as some other muscle issues. When I tried to get an appointment, I was told the next available one was in April, a mere 4 months from now. I have a good friend who made some calls and I ended up in the office of this fabulous doctor this morning. So, what is going on? We have a couple of working theories. Myasthenia gravis
is one theory. Multiple Sclerosis is another. MS like syndrome caused by one of my other medications? Maybe. So, they took a bunch of blood, and set me up to have an MRI tomorrow. We shall see. Actually, I just really want to be able to see well again. I miss reading! I have fortunately figured out how to enlarge the font on my computer so I can read what I type, emails, and facebook just fine. I miss books, though.

Next was a conversation as a follow up on the ex-husband issues. Talking seems to almost always give me clarity, and having a wonderful person to listen and help me sort things out is a gift. I feel much more confident in my resolve after this conversation.

Then, I had to go to an appointment with a social worker who may have some help for me to navigate the social security disability system if the need arises. It was a good appointment, and I was very grateful for the suggestions she had.

So, I got home, went out to get kids, drop off kids, get kids, go to the library (not for myself) and give my 16 year old some driving practice. Dinner, homework, emails, phone calls....nothing like life to keep me from focusing on myself too much.


It is cold. I know I mentioned that already. Not that I need an excuse to turn on my oven, it is just more fun if something is cooking in it. I decided to make some smashed coconut macaroons with nutella sandwich cookies. My children and I enjoyed the process, the smell of good things baking, and the delicious product. Yum. Can someone please pass the hot chocolate?

Twenty Ten

On the first morning of the new year, I have a tradition of meeting a few friends to walk the labyrinth at The University of St. Thomas, near my house, and begin the year with a meditative quiet moment, to help me focus. I love this labyrinth because it is beautiful, and peaceful, and it is surrounded by rose bushes. I think this works very well for me, because just 10 days or so before, I spent some time on the winter solstice thinking about my goals for the coming months. I have had some time to ruminate on my thoughts, and this tradition helps me move forward on a clear path into the future.

In the past, the labyrinth has always represented a path, the path of my life, and my focus has been to just stay on my path, no matter how it twists and turns--there have been a lot of twists and turns--as long as I stay on the path, I will find my way to the goal. It has worked. I have navigated some incredible things in the last few years, and managed to get through the challenges, still on course.

However, this year, I noticed something different. I have walked this particular labyrinth many times, not just on new year's day, and never been so struck by the fountains. There are 3 fountains at one end of the labyrinth, and they shoot up, and return, sort of cycling through, and returning to reuse the same water. It is like turning and returning, as in the labyrinth walk itself. The fountains were the most significant thing, throughout the 30 minutes or so of walking. I heard the water, rushing, flowing, turning, returning. I watched the water. I smiled, because I have felt much more like my life is going with the flow lately, than staying on the path. This metaphor found a way to appear in my clear consciousness this morning.

I also was aware, during the walk, of passing other people who were also enjoying the labyrinth on this beautiful, clear, cold, sunny morning. It was a reminder that I don't walk alone. The smile or nod of a stranger, the hand of a friend, are always there, and will reach out to me, if I am willing to look up.

After walking we talked for a short time. The fountains were striking, not only to me this year. There are 3 fountains, and to the 5 of us the fountains symbolized: "I am, I can, I will" "Past, Present, Future" "Body, Mind, Spirit" "Faith, Hope, Love" among others. Then, because we were all freezing, we headed off to have coffee, and get warm.

So when people ask me how I started this decade, I will say, walking a path, listening to water flowing with friends, on a beautiful peaceful morning, surrounded by roses.

Food Vignette

I must take a moment for a brief interlude and describe a meal that I had last night. I was dining at T'afia with friends to ring in the new year, or to ring out the old, depending on perspective. It was a damp and slightly drizzly cool-ish winter evening. I had already made one dinner for my children, sushi (a totally interactive food experience in my house) and chocolate fondue, which is a family tradition for the new year.

I was picked up by friends for a late dinner, and we arrived at the restaurant, which was full, warm, and festive. There was a 5 course menu. One of my friends and I decided to order different things and share, so we essentially would have 9 courses. All the starters were the same. Savory Parisian style macaroons--one that was black truffle with brie and greens with truffle oil on the side, and one that was sage with bosque bleu cheese and butternut squash. They were beautiful, delicate, and delicious. You could actually taste each component, in a tiny little savory cookie.

The second course was soup. We shared a butternut squash bisque, that had a lovely spice, perhaps cardamon and a cauliflower soup that was spicy, with a piece of cauliflower as a garnish that had a lovely drizzle of something on it. Course number three was a choice of several items. I chose buratta a la puglia, which is a soft home made mozzarella, with some olive oil, balsamic vinegar, and fresh herbs. My friend had spinach-ricotta gnudi with a brown sage butter. We shared again, and both were the type of dish that you just didn't want to end. I savored every morsel, eating slowly to enjoy it as much as possible.

The fourth course, I had scallops, perfectly seared, served with truffled potatoes and a blue cheese honey glaze. So delicious. I found myself cutting the scallops into very tiny pieces so I could enjoy more mouthfuls. My friend had spiced lamb chops, that were served with kale and radishes that were braised in a lovely sweet and sour sauce. Again, both were impeccably executed, and tastes to be savored.

Finally, the dessert courses we chose were a creme brulee with a chocolate ginger snap, and a berry tart, served with spiced pistachios and whipped cream. Mmmmm.

A few times, Chef Monica emerged momentarily from the kitchen, and each time had an intense look of concentration. There were several other menu options in addition to those we ate. I know that kitchen had to be a very busy place of fast pace and pumping adrenaline. The atmosphere in the dining room was relaxed, festive, and fun. There was a look of enjoyment and happiness on the faces of the lucky people who were there to celebrate.

The friends I joined were all new friends, made in 2009. There is no doubt in my mind that these new friendships were one of the big highlights of my year. It was a wonderful way to celebrate the end of the year, and the end of a decade. I was leaving behind intensity on many levels, and moving forward into a life with hopefully a lot more fun, relaxation, and cause for celebration.

Following dinner, we moved on to 13 Celsius. It was the third anniversary of the opening of this little gem of a wine bar. There were champagne toasts at midnight, hugs and kisses all around, and good wishes for all the best 2010 has to promise in its newest minutes. There was also birthday cake, again made by Chef Monica, so again, we ate, celebrated, and enjoyed.

When we finally departed to go home, the sky had cleared. It was windy and COLD, and there was a full moon shining above. It was a blue moon on New Year's Eve--a rare and special night.