Soul Sunday

Welcome to poetry day on the blog. Plato said that “Poetry is nearer to vital truth than history.” Nietzsche said “Poets are shameless with their experiences: They exploit them.” T. S. Eliot said “It is a test that genuine poetry can communicate before it is understood.” What is your truth? How can you exploit what you have experienced into a form of poetry? What are you struggling to understand? Write a poem. You might find an answer. Here is my poem for today:

“The Quest for Knowledge”

We are visiting you at your esteemed institution of learning,

My brilliant, driven, ambitious, beautiful daughter.

There are buildings, and books, and the bustle of ceaseless curiosity,

surrounding us everywhere in this oasis of youth and possibility.

Where will this erudition take you towards your lofty dreams?

I study you closely, pondering these things, quietly to myself.

But then I look up at your carefully crafted picture wall . . .

Beautiful pictures of beautiful people and precious pets,

Your family and your friends all glowing with mutual love and admiration,

The most interesting picture is placed in the center, simple framed words:

“I’ve learned that it’s not what I have in my life, but who I have in my life that counts.”

And this is when I serenely smile to myself, gratefully understanding

that you already know everything that you will ever need to know.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Monday-Funday

Credit: @woofknight, Twitter

Our daughter came home for the weekend, from college. She says that the university keeps her dorm as cold as a meat locker. Her theory is that this reduces mold spores. By the age and the look of the dorms, I think that this is a legitimate theory. So in turn, she told us that she did not sleep well here at home. Now, our home has become way too hot.

I read an article about Kelly Ripa’s new book: Live Wire. Here’s what she says about having an empty nest: “It’s scary, thrilling, liberating, shocking . . . and quiet.” In my early experience, that synopsis is spot on. Another thing that Kelly talks about in the empty nest chapter is this: “I don’t know how to make dinner proportionally.” This quote has been my story for my entire married life. I either underestimated our hunger to the point that we all needed a second dinner, or there were leftovers enough to justify the purchase of a new freezer. And I agree with Kelly Ripa, this cooking for two is insanely weird. I told my husband that we are mostly going to eat frozen vegetables from now on, because our produce is continually going bad. Life seems to be a constant cycle of getting used to “a new way of life.” New normal . . . new normal . . . new normal . . . .

Kelly also spoke about trading youthful confidence for certainty as we age. I like that thought. I think what I am becoming more and more certain about as I get older, is how little I really do know.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

There’s a Hole in the Bucket

Love is an action, but the feelings that you get from loving are incredible. Those feelings have to be love. So love must be a by-product of acting on love.

I’ve been wallowing in love-sickness these last few days. We took my youngest child and our only daughter to college on Friday (she opted to start this summer). Why is it that when you take a kid to college, everything that you do, and that you see, reminds you of them?!? Everything. I was in the grocery store yesterday, and on the clearance shelf they had a big bag of candy corn. I got a lump in my throat because my daughter is the only one in our family who actually likes candy corn. I almost publicly cried at our local grocery store over a huge, stale bag of candy corn.

My daughter seems very happy though. She’s meeting lots of people and I am so thankful for the technology of Facetime. Our youngest son is living with us this summer, while doing a summer internship. (His epilepsy has been well under control. Regular readers, thank you so much for your love and concern, and your prayers and good wishes. He is doing so much better than last fall. We all are doing so much better, and we thank you from the bottom of our hearts for your love and support.) My youngest son is one of our middle two sons, of our family of four children. He shared a bedroom with our second eldest son, his entire childhood. He has never had the experience of being an “only child” with his parents’ attention entirely focused on him. Never. There has always been at least one other child at home, every time that he has lived with his parents. I am not sure that our youngest son is enjoying this “only child” experience all that much. He seems to find a lot of reasons to work late, and to go to the gym for hours and hours. I’m hearing, “Don’t worry about me for dinner,” a lot. Interestingly, all four of our children are dating only children. I can’t decide whether this means that onlies are somehow attracted to big, loud, boisterous, chaotic families, or if my kids are just tired of sharing with others?! It’s probably a mix of both.

On Twitter this morning, the Wise Connector posted this:

I like this take on the “Bucket List”. As a 51-year-old woman, the “Bucket List” thing kind of stresses me. I start worrying about prioritizing, and questioning whether I am wasting too much time, and even the state of my health. “The Bucket List” makes me concentrate on my demise too much. Last night, a group of good friends and I went out to celebrate one of our friend’s birthday at a new restaurant in town. The company was great, but the restaurant sucked. This restaurant is not long for staying in business, we all agreed (interestingly this restaurant is in one of those “doomed” locations. Three restaurants have already failed at that same spot. This is a phenomenon I have noticed my entire life, wherever I have lived. Some locales just seem to be cursed in this world.) Still, I am thrilled that we went to this new place. I am always curious about new places, and new people, and new things. I am thrilled for the experience which we had last night. I love having my curiosity satisfied, and now that particular restaurant will be conveniently tossed into the orange bucket above, leaving more room in the other bucket, which we middle-agers are expected to obsess over.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Savor.

“Things will go undiscussed and maybe this is for the best. Words will have a way of reducing an experience. Besides, it is too soon to define and name all that’s going on.”

This is my horoscope this morning from Holiday Mathis. This is also the last day in which all of our six immediate family members will be together, for a while. My eldest son leaves tomorrow to go back to his home up north, and my middle son leaves on Monday for his senior year of college. My youngest son wants to get a couple of weeks of work in, before he heads back to the university, by the end of the month. And so, of course, I am trying to push all of this reality to the far back, dark corners of my mind. I am reminding myself to stay in the moment, and to Savor. Savor. Savor.

There were plenty of times over the years that managing our growing, large family was overwhelming and exhausting and emotionally taxing and expensive and chaotic and loud and seemingly never-ending. There were many times over the years that I had to remind myself to turn Complain. Complain. Complain. . . . into Savor. Savor. Savor.

Like my horoscope says, “it is too soon to define and name all that’s going on”. I feel like I have been in the middle of trying to define this new stage of my life (the stage where I have to let go of what was, to forge forward, into what will be), for a long, long time now, but it is still too soon to do that. I’m still in the middle of releasing the tight ball of yarn that was our family. The yarns are scattering, the tight ball of string is now more of a loose puddle, but it hasn’t taken on its new form yet. It’s still a fluid, puddle of yarn. Our family yarn is still trying to find its new shape and form. And every once in a while, like during this past week, the string that binds our family, gets together again, and forms into that tight, little, familiar, cozy, warm ball and this coming together reminds us that no matter what our family tapestry ends up looking like in the future, it all started, here, at its core. In the center of that ball is the heart of it all – the love that binds us.

Conversation Starter

My youngest son called me up the other day, with a nervous tone in his voice. One of his best friends from high school, a boy whom we all adore, but who definitely has some wilder tendencies, was visiting my son at his university last weekend. (they go to different schools) I held my breath wondering what my son’s confession was going to be, and I instantly was wracking my brain as to what the boys might have gotten themselves into, in their youthful exuberance.

“I don’t want you to be disappointed in me,” my son stammered.

This is the time in the conversation when I wanted to scream, “Just spit it out, dammit!!” Many times in previous years, I have screamed those very words to all four of my darling children, during times of high hormonal content in my bloodstream mixed with bad sleep from the previous night, but this time, my son actually caught me at a calm, post- relaxing, meditative moment, so I remained quiet and patient.

It turns out that my son wants to change his major to a less practical major, one which really interests him much more. Phew. Exhale. Sigh of relief.

“You could NEVER disappoint me, except in moments that you would deliberately hurt yourself or hurt other people from bad intentions and actions,” was my first and instant response. We then had a nice conversation, weighing the pros and cons of his decision to change his course of studies. Me, being the forever dreamer/optimist, focused a little heavy on the “pros”, whereas his father, who is visiting the boys this weekend for his brother’s annual fraternity “Dads’ Weekend” and is far more practical and level-headed, will probably focus a little bit more on the “cons”, when he has breakfast with my youngest son this morning. (My husband and I balance each other out quite well, in that way.) Still, in the end, it is my son’s decision with what direction that he wants to take his life, and I trust that he will find the right answer for himself.

“Honor thy father and mother” is one of those biblical edicts that has caused stomachs to churn for centuries. It cropped up in my head, as I felt the disappointment in myself, that my son feared talking about his major change with me. Everyone has a different idea of what “honor thy father and mother” actually really means. Now that I have been a parent for almost 24 years, I have seen this edict from all different angles and I feel more firmly in my ideas about that edict, than I ever have before.

My husband and I chose to bring four children into this world. We did this for us. We wanted the experience of parenting. We wanted to build a family together. My children’s beautiful souls graciously accepted the challenge of being our children, despite not asking to be born. They have fulfilled their commitment to us, by allowing us the magnanimous experience of raising them. I am honored. I am more than honored, by that fact. I am utterly grateful. I hope to have a satisfying relationship with all of my children and their families for the rest of our lives, but that is up to all of us, as adults, to be healthy, considerate, loving people, who have and who accept healthy boundaries – people who anyone would want to have a satisfying relationship with. When we are adults, it becomes a mutual thing. There are no “shoulds.” I am not a selfless martyr. I chose to have my children. I also have a life outside of my family and that is important for all of us, for all of our ultimate growth experiences in Life. I do not care to have any relationships with any other people that are heavily based on fear, guilt, control, obligation or shame – not my children, not my husband, not my extended family, not my friends, not even with myself or with God. I choose authenticity. I choose healthy Love.

I think that it is very sad to use the Bible to make excuses or pardons for inflicting our ugly behavior (without repentance), the kind of negative behavior that we sometimes and most often, inflict on the people who are the closest to us – the people whom we love the most. I read something recently that said the true way that we honor our parents and our family name is basically, by not being a jerk. We dishonor our parents by leading lives filled with deceitful, criminal activities. “Honoring” speaks nothing of the intricacies and delicacies of a mutually satisfying relationship.

I know that not everyone sees things the way that I do. I am comfortable with that. I love the variety in this world. It has taken me a long time (probably most of my life) to figure out my current life philosophy and I understand that this current philosophy is more than likely to evolve and to grow and to change, as I do. The people whom I most intimate with in life with, are also in the ever-changing process of growth and unfolding. I respect that. My conversation with my son this week, spurned a lot more thought, introspection, and contemplation than just my opinion on his career goals. It is said that relationships are “people growers” and I like to think that my son and I both experienced some healthy individual growth from our conversation. This individual growth helps the garden of our relationship to continue to bloom in a healthy, satisfying way for both of us, a relationship with its roots being firmly planted in the deep, rich, nourishing soil of authentic Love.