When it Rains....

Sometimes when it rains, it pours, and sometimes when it rains, it is a hurricane. Lately, it feels like a hurricane. A very big dramatic hurricane, or maybe two. The drama that has been in my life, well, for a long time would be enough to make anyone ask, "why me?" Believe me, I do ask that. But I really want to know. Why me? What is the message that I am supposed to be learning from all the blustering and storms in my life?

This week has been intense. Big drama with the ex husband. Drama with the mama. Drama, drama, drama. Today I have been in crisis management mode, and will continue in that mode tomorrow, but hopefully there will be some resolution soon. The mama drama is more or less resolved. The other drama, however, could last a while.

However, in putting out a plea for information to help me navigate the waters of the drama, I was flooded with support by friends. I am always amazed by the number of people who care about me, and I so appreciate each one who reaches out to me.

I do wonder, though, hasn't there been enough for me to learn what I'm supposed to without the added recent drama? Evidently not. I need to know something that I have yet to determine. Perhaps it is having more difficult experiences so that I can be more empathetic with others? Maybe I think I have it all sorted out but really I don't? Maybe it is just that stuff happens.

A friend once gave me a card that said something like "For your birthday I was going to give you a universal remote control. But, I knew you would be disappointed when you realized you could not use it to control the universe." I know now, that I am far from being in control of anything that happens outside of me, but I can control how I react. Usually. If I am in control of my reactions, I can choose to have a positive attitude. And I do.

The best news, though, is that hurricanes pass, the flood waters recede, and after picking up the debris, everything is clean, and fresh, and we have the opportunity to either resume or start over. Sometimes it takes a community to put things back together, but I have a community, and they will help as needed. So, once the storm has passed, the messy bits dealt with, and everything put back in order, I will persevere. The path will be clear for a time, and I will make the most of it.

Reflect, Rejoice, Renew

The theme for Christmas at The White House this year is Reflect, Rejoice, Renew. I am not a person who celebrates Christmas in a traditional sense; I am not a Christian. There are many holidays and different faith traditions that celebrate this season. As the days are short, nights are long, and the pace of life slows a bit and the end of the year in sight, it is a time to do a little bit of the three R's.

Reflecting on this year in my life has included an amazing of events--completing my second half-marathon, getting a job, losing a job, nurturing a fledgling business, nurturing a fledgling family, the loss of my grandmother, my bad health, amazing trip to Israel, lots of medical procedures, diagnosis that presents yet even more challenges, financial struggles, lots of drama (keeping things always interesting in every aspect of my life,) good friends, new friends, lovely family, knowing that I have the ability to make a difference, knowing that I am strong--that is the 2009 for me.

Well, that is the year in a nutshell. Reflecting, though, I will look closely at this series of statements, and what I have learned. Reflecting, meditating, looking back. Actually, my favorite definition of reflect is (from dictionary.com) *to cast back light* Perhaps with reflection, we can see things in a new light, shed light on something we might not have understood, or, hopefully, enlighten and then, carry the light forward into our lives.

Rejoice is to celebrate, to feel joy, to delight. Rejoicing may not always be easy, but being aware of success--which is different for everyone, and different on any given day at any given moment--is always a reason to rejoice. Success can be taking a first step toward a goal, or completing a goal. Feeling joy is something that is easier for some than for others, but if we choose to celebrate success, no matter if it is a very large accomplishment, or something that may seem on the surface to be rather insignificant, accomplishment is in your head and in your heart. I rejoice in waking up and having a whole new day to use as I choose.

Renew, restore, recover, revive, to take up again. Using quiet time to renew goals, body, mind, spirit is always worthwhile, but at this particular time of year, I feel like I get a clean slate. Sort of. My past is part of me, and will always be part of who I am, but my future is part of me too. Future is when I can reinvent, or renew myself. However, renewal is also now. What can I (or you) do right now to begin the process of renewal?

Renewal is something else for me too. I am right here, right now, and living in this moment in time. For me, adding the the theme of Christmas at The White House, I would add another thing to celebrate--being present. Treasuring each and every moment for what it is--good, bad, sad, joyful...I must remind myself constantly to get out of my head which is always reflecting and reviewing...and just be. Renew.

So in reflecting, rejoicing, and renewing this holiday season, celebrating Chanukkah, Kwanza, Bodhi Day, Eid al-adha (which I know was in November this year,) Pancha Ganapati, Yule, Christmas, the Winter Solstice, or the New Year, I wish everyone happiness, good health, success, love, and peace.

Love Finding its Way--Tonight's Blessing

Tonight at dinner a blessing was said. I was at the home of a dear friend, accepting a spontaneous invitation, despite my need to stay home and clean and organize my own house, and also rest. I often say that given the option, I will always socialize. Even when I am grateful and reveling in free time, I will leap at a social invitation if one pops up.

I sort of justified accepting the invitation, reassuring myself in my own mind as I texted my hostess, "I won't stay late, and I won't eat much." Somehow, that made it ok to abandon the contents of my dining room buffet that were now all on my dining room table. I also left the remnants of fudge-making all over my kitchen.

Cooking is one way that I show love. It nurtures body and spirit, both mine, and those who eat what I prepare. I had quickly thrown together some fudge this afternoon, to give to a young friend who is facing some big challenges right now. Fudge is really nothing, but it was a way for me to express my care. I was also thinking of her the whole time I was cooking. When I went to deliver the fudge, she was not able to visit with me. I left the treats, hoping that she will know that she is loved, even though I didn't get to see her.

Back to the blessing. The patriarch of the assembled family at dinner tonight--I really was crashing the party--said grace before we ate. The words that stuck with me were about love. Love finds its way into our lives in so many ways if we allow it. I knew that I was loved, surrounded by this family that was not my own, but we were part of each other for the evening.

Interestingly enough, the dinner conversation turned to religion, and the since I teach, and others present had studied world religions, it was a great conversation. Among the points discussed, different faiths have different practices, but the same goals. Every major faith has a statement of some form of the Golden Rule--Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. And it is all about love. Isn't that an important goal in all of our lives? To be loved and valued. So, as we strive to be loved, we should love others.

Loving what you do is a way of sharing your passion with others. When you have a passion, and you choose to share that passion, you can impact others--with your enthusiasm, your work, your love. Passion is very attractive. Loving my family, home, career, city, activities, friends--makes me realize how lucky I am. Yes, love has found its way in, and I welcome it, celebrate it, revel in it.

So tonight, as I am sitting upstairs listening to the rain, having cleaned up (and consumed) the remnants of the fudge, following an amazing dinner of shrimp ettouffe and bread pudding, I am happy to have let love find its way in to my life today.

Some Summer Writings

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Escape

Sometimes I feel like I am involved in far too many situations that involve narrowly escaping calamity. Anyone who knows me knows that I am a survivor. However, I am not content with survival. I must thrive. Sure, I reinvent myself a little here and there along the way, but I thrive.

There was a mosquito flying around this morning inside my car. Both my son and I were swatting at it, and trying to slam it against the windshield, or clap it between two hands, or slap it on a leg, or even smash it on the other's face. However, despite the fact that we actually caught the little bugger a couple of times, we did not kill it. Not that we weren't trying!

However, as the little pest continued to sidestep our every attempt at it's demise, I secretly began to identify with the bug. I was even sort of rooting for it.

Life throws all kinds of things at you. Recognizing the threat is an important step. Taking action to avoid the doom is next, and then breathing a sigh, moving on, and flying headlong back into life is how to stay on track. I am learning this. It is not something that you learn in school. It is instinctive survival and determination that gets me through so much. Humans are resilient but you have to want it, and you have to be proactive.

The frightened (my projection here) little bug continued to dart around the hot interior of my car, with unexpected and unexplained obstacles. By the end of the 10 minute trip, my son and I were both laughing, and the mosquito was still alive.

As my son opened the door to head out to his summer camp, the little bug, determined to survive, and to thrive, though evidently in a new place all together from where he started his journey, flew out into the bright morning sunshine and into the air.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Lazy, or To Be

It feels like the Dog Days in August, and yet, we haven't even reached the Summer Solstice. Looking out the window, it is easy to pretend, from the conditioned air comfort, that it is a beautiful spring day. There is not a trace of a cloud in the sky. Everything is in bloom, with shades of green and vibrant colorful flowers. The sun shines bright and clear. Everything looks crisp.

Then, you walk out side, and it is like you have stepped into another dimension. It feels a bit like the few times I tried Bikram Hot Yoga, forced movement with determination to accomplish a goal. When you step outside now, you are blasted with the heat and humidity, and it takes your breath away. The squirrels hide, and the birds fly as if they mean business, and then are engulfed again into the trees. Even the mosquitoes become invisible during the day. Everything moves at a different pace.

I have tried to slow the pace a bit, too. It is really difficult for me, because it seems sometimes that my life dictates constant action. Perhaps the lazy days of summer are supposed to be exactly that. Time for relaxing, socializing, and moving a little slow. It is a good time to enjoy a New Orleans style Snowball at MAM's in the Heights. Sometimes a cool destination, both in temperature, and in style, is just what is needed to face the Houston summer heat.

Even in the evening, the air is so still, you can almost touch it. Then, later, the breeze begins. Seated on my patio, I can hear the sounds of the city. It comes back to life when the sun goes down. Traffic, sirens, people, breeze, the hum of life, and the music from Miller Outdoor Theatre.

Enjoying the lazy part of the lazy days of summer, slowing the pace, is something I hope to be able to make myself do a little more. Take more time to be.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Trees and Art

Yesterday, as on many Saturdays, my day began with enjoying the friends and food at Monica Pope's Green Plum Cooking School. Today's recipes included sushi components, which Monica referred to as a sort of Scattered Sushi, and also a bean ragout. The food was delicious. The sights, sounds, and delicious smells of the farmer's market, and of breakfast at T'afia get my weekend started on a high note.

I rushed from there to The MFAH Sculpture Garden, where The Art Guys married a Plant. As we entered the garden, there was classical music from a string quartet, seated in the morning sun, as it filtered through the leaves of the massive oaks that grow all around the garden. There was a very formal wedding set-up, and a gathering of somewhere around 300 people. The quartet played, I visited with friends. Then, a hush fell on the crowd, and The Art Guys, dressed in tuxedos, wheeled in a young, beautiful live oak tree on a wagon. They went up to the podium, decorated with tulle and flowers, and the wedding ceremony took place (complete with placing a ring on the tree.)

When you marry, a person or a tree, you promise to care for your partner for life. I was standing there thinking about how a marriage is a partnership. I looked at the spindly little plant that was being married, and thought about how it would grow into a huge plant, and it would care for not only it's new partners, The Art Guys, but for many. It would protect us from the hot June sun, and yesterday was definitely a hot and sultry Houston day. It would give us cleaner air, and all the other things that plants do for us.

Mostly, though, the tree would give us beauty. I have lived in Houston most of my life, and I am still struck by the beauty of the trees in this city. I remember when Fannin was lined with towering palms, and I enjoy the beauty of the live oaks in my neighborhood on a daily basis. I still marvel at the canopy that covers the streets. My children say we travel in tree tunnels.

As the wedding concluded, we crossed the street to the Contemporary Arts Museum, for the reception. Mimosas, wedding cake, speeches, and dancing....

This life cycle event, involving a tree, made me think back to Hurricane Ike, and the massive trees that fell as a result of the storm. One in particular still is a daily memory for me. It was an old oak, in a park near my home. It was covered with vines, and was so green. I remember walking around after the storm, and being in shock when I saw this tree on the ground. It stretched almost half the width of the little park. It was still so quiet, as the area was still without electiricty. I went up to the tree, and thought about all the things that the tree had witnessed in its lifetime. My children and I had a sort of memorial for the tree. A funeral. Much as we think of relatives and friends who have died, I also think of the tree.

So, after celebrating at the tree wedding, and congratulating The Art Guys, and looking at the awesome folk art that local artists have at the museum now, I walked home.

Later in the evening, I got to go to another art thing. It was an opening for local artists, and was a real mixture of media and styles. I met one of the artists. She had a couple of pieces that I admired. They both involved doors. What lies on the other side?

Travel Vignette--The Gesture of Shared Food

Saturday I was doing my usual Saturday morning thing, attending Monica Pope's Green Plum Cooking School and the Midtown Farmer's Market. I am there almost every week. I have a community there--a family built around food. Monica shares her knowledge, her food, and her experience with the community each week through these free Saturday morning classes, as well as in many other ways. This weekend was unusual, though, as I was not in my usual role of Google Girl, doing on the spot research during the class. There was a guest chef, Caleb Barber, who talked about the sharing of food with travelers. I was instantly transported back to one of the most lovely food sharing experiences I've had.

Bhutan, Friday, March 30, 2007
Festivals, such as the one we attended, are celebrated monthly on the 10th of the month according to the Lunar Calendar. People dress in their finest clothes, and come see the Buddhist monks dance and play music. It is a celebration of the Monk who unified the Kingdom of Bhutan

We arrive just in time to hear the giant gongs and horns (which sound a little like bagpipes warming up) and see the beginning of the procession down the steps of the Paro Dzong into the festival area. A series of brightly costumed people proceeded to the performance space in an ordered parade. I wandered around admiring the explosion of color in the costumes of the performers, and in the dress of the people attending. I watched the dancers.

I sat under a tree to write in my journal, and attracted a curious but shy crowd. People here were marveling at the novelty of this white American tourist sitting and writing, just as I marveled at the beauty of the people and the festival. The explosion of fantastic color, beautiful clothing, and smiling faces is something I will never forget. At one point, an airplane took off from the airport, and it was completely anachronistic--a very bizarre event in the setting in which I was immersed.

The sounds are different here. There is no noise pollution. Every sound I hear is distinct. The wind--both a close breeze in the trees, and the wind whipping through the valley below. I hear voices of men talking in the distance, and also the sounds of the music coming up from the festival to the clearing where I now sit. In the distance I can see the worlds tallest peaks, covered in spots by traces of snow.

A family sits down nearby, and begins to unpack their picnic lunch. They were talking and laughing as the women worked to set up the simple meal. The bowls were passed, and a woman came up to me and handed me a bowl. I must have looked puzzled, because she gestured that she wished me to join them. I dined on a lentil stew and the local red rice with my new friends. We communicated little with words, but with some gestures, and a lot of smiles. It was not so much the generosity of the Bhutanese people that struck me, but their happiness. I think that happiness and generosity are connected. Gratitude also. I was grateful for the gesture of sharing what these people had to give. A simple lunch. A few smiles. A lifetime memory.

So, this weekend, as Caleb talked about the gesture of sharing food with travelers, and I remembered this family in Bhutan, I also thought about how food offers an instant connection for people. It connects us with our family, our friends, places, and traditions. The gesture of sharing food and nurturing spirit and body, is one of the most generous gestures I've experienced.

The Difference

Monday through Friday, I get these messages from The Universe . This morning, this was the message. Attitude is everything.

"Should you choose to go, do, and be, at the end of your life, shocked and dismayed, you'll likely exclaim that because of all the uncanny events, wild timing, weird coincidences, and sheer chance encounters, all of your life's good fortune must have been your destiny.

Or, should you choose to wait, wish, and hope, at the end of your life, shocked and dismayed, you'll likely exclaim that because of all the uncanny events, wild timing, weird coincidences, and sheer chance encounters, all of your life's bad luck must have been your destiny.

Do you see what the difference is?"

Thanks, Universe. That first paragraph? That is how I live.

Waking up from the Poppies

Remember in "The Wizard of Oz" when Dorothy and her companions all are put under the spell of the Wicked Witch of the West, and succumb to the "poison" in the poppy field? Then, Glinda the Good Witch wakes them with snow, falling beautifully and silently, waking the travelers with new optimism, closer than ever to their goal.

Well, that happened to me today. I have been struggling with health, job, relationships, blah, blah, blah. This has gone on with a crazy intensity for months. Of course, there have been peaks and valleys, but this week it all seemed to come to a head on several fronts. I have new clarity on the ramification of my health issues. I finished a job that caused tremendous stress, and today, left my files, computer, and blackberry behind for my successor. And, things are beginning to fall into place in the logistical nightmare that became my reality this week, with the "don't drive" edict from my doctor.

I didn't even realize how toxic many things had become until they began to resolve. This week was filled with stuff coming at me from all directions--mostly good stuff, but as a result of bad stuff.

Today was the day I got to walk away from my former job. Today it began to snow early. In Houston. It doesn't snow in Houston. But it was. A lot. I got to go to breakfast with a couple of my good friends, laughing a lot, and looking at the snow. Then the final wrap up of my job, with snow coming down even harder. I was picked up by another friend, and we headed downtown for a "special announcement" from Bill White--He'll be running for Governor of Texas. It was a ballroom filled with enthusiastic optimism.



After the big political announcement, I returned home, played in the snow, baked cookies and made dinner with my children, then joined friends for a nibble at one of my favorite restaurants in Houston. I realized while I was there how light and optimistic I was feeling, and how I'm right on the edge of achieving some goals, now that I have left the toxicity of the "poppies" and been gently, quietly awoken by the snow.

I walked out on my patio tonight. It is COLD, but the moon is shining brightly in a clear sky, and the stars are sparkling. I think The Emerald City is just over the horizon...