Tag: life

Monday’s Maxims

+ “Behind every great recipe there is a grandmother. We call ours “Cuddy”!” – from a package of Chunk Nibbles

This is the first time I have heard “Cuddy” for a grandmother’s name and I just love it. I do believe that the best recipes I have ever gotten are from my grandmothers and my great-grandmother. Not too long ago, I brought out some old recipes for a neighborhood gathering and I was told that they were total “crack” and couldn’t be left alone until they were all gone. So much is store bought these days, that baking from scratch tastes extra good, doesn’t it? Nostalgia must be the secret ingredient. My mother-in-law taught my daughter how to bake (I am not at all a kitchen wizard) and I still have fond memories of watching them spend an afternoon in our kitchen together. Baking is bonding.

+ “Adopt the pace of nature: Her secret is patience.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

Why do we go out in nature in order to relax? Because there is no “hurried” energy in nature. Nature is in acceptance of what is. Nature sits in faith that everything will unfold as it should, in its own time.

+ “The entire world you see is an afterthought.” – Alan Cohen

What are you seeing in the world? Are you wearing the right glasses? What you experience through your senses is then translated through your mind, using labels, beliefs, lessons, media, past experiences, emotion, other people’s influences, etc. We could both be looking at the exact same world and be translating it in entirely different ways. You could look at the identical object/scene you are observing today, and see it in an entirely different way tomorrow. Make sure that your translator is up to snuff.

+ “You fear losing what was never yours. Nothing belongs to you but the journey.” – Shams-e Tabrizi

We don’t even get to leave here with our bodies. Our true treasure is the adventures of our every day lives. Learning to let go of attachments is one of the hardest lessons in life, isn’t it?

+ “There is no fail. You either win or learn.” – Gary Keller

Our daughter has just recently started her new job and as always, she is being extra hard on herself for not being perfect at it, from the starting gate. If we learn from the lessons of our mistakes, there is never a loss. I know these words fall short on her now, but in hindsight, there is no doubt she will see the truth of it. What we learn “the hard way” is what sticks with us the most.

Happy Monday! Happy New Month! Happy New Week!

“Every dawn is a new beginning.”

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

A Girl Named Sue

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to realize what most people want more than anything is a witness to their story. Why do we think that social media has become so popular? Most people just want someone to listen. Most people want to be validated and comforted that they are doing their best as they experience the incredulousness of living a life on this Earth. Yesterday, I was trying to get a million errands done because we are having company this weekend. However, the cashier who was waiting on me at one of my stops, clearly needed me to hear her story. I sensed this – intuitively but also because she mentioned to me more than once that she had not had an easy life. To be fair, I was also sensing my own inner aggravations about time limits, and I was feeling the impatience of the people behind me, but something told me that it was more important in that particular moment that I could easily fulfill an obviously strong need of another living being to be heard, by just intently listening. I am a big believer in boundaries, but I am a bigger believer in listening to my intuition and my inner spirit, and something deeply calmed in me, and so I became a listener, a witness, and a validator to a woman named Sue.

Sue was an orphan of Indian descent. She was raised by nuns in a convent in Ediburgh, Scotland. Most of the nuns were good, sweet ladies, but the head nun was horrific, mean and controlling. Sue was a natural student and so by the age of 15, the head nun had made Sue start teaching the other children at the orphanage. Sue knew that this was not right. Sue was still a child herself. She told the head nun this fact and was dearly punished for it. So Sue kept calm, put her head down, kept with her studies, and despite the nuns pressuring her to stay at the convent and teach, she left the orphanage at the age of 18 and continued at university, while also working and living in a small apartment with five other women. Sue became an educator in a school of her choosing, and won more than one teaching award throughout her career. Sue also met the love of her life, an older man and a doctor. They married, had two children and Sue was living the life of her dreams, but unfortunately her husband suddenly passed away. At that time, her two young children begged Sue to move from Scotland to New York City, as Scotland was the land of their father and there were too many memories for all of them to bear there. So Sue finished raising her kids in New York City, and both of them have gone on to be successful in their lives and have families of their own. Sue’s children and friends all thought that she should remarry, but Sue felt that she already experienced the one great love of her life. When Sue retired, for better winter weather, she chose to move on her own to Florida, with her children’s blessing. Sue likes cashiering because she likes to keep busy and to meet people. I told Sue, “You have always had a strong spirit, it seems.”

She sighed, “I didn’t have a choice.”

I said to her, “I know that you didn’t want any of these hardships, but you stepped up to the plate. You met them. You endured and even thrived.”

Sue clasped my hands and thanked me. “He died 22 years ago today,” she said with watery eyes. And it was then that my heart knew that I was right to listen to it, and to hear Sue. And not surprisingly, I got everything done that I needed to get done for the rest of the day.

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

Monday Got Me Good

“How alive your heart to feel such sorrow!” – from Catherine Newman’s bestselling book, Sandwich

So last month, I was out to lunch with two friends and our one friend gave each of us a different book that she had finished reading. She told us to read them and then to swap them. So the other day, my generous book-giving friend mentioned in a casual text to me that our other friend had finished her book. I hadn’t even started mine. So, in a frenzied mix of competiveness and a dutiful sense of consideration, I finished my book, front to back, all on Monday. That book was Sandwich by Catherine Newman, and it was essentially a heart-bearing, brutally honest account of a woman in the exact stage of life me and my friends are in – empty nest, menopause, having the people whom we love on both ends of our lives, slowly and methodically fading out of our lives, in different ways. Being in the “sandwich” stage of life, our adult children are moving out and on, and our elders are slowing, aging and sometimes even passing on. Newman mentioned something about us being at a “fulcrum” stage of our lives. Sandwich was a great, relatable read, mostly in how it touched on the big emotions and the almost feeling of disbelief, which this stage of our lives brings to the table. For me, the book was mainly a reflection of the poignancy of life and the beauty of love and living fully. Here is my favorite excerpt from the book:

“Here’s what foragers know: Most of what grows is neither delicious nor toxic. There’s a whole world between what we call the choice edibles- the hazelnuts and porcini and black raspberries- and say, the destroying angel mushrooms that will shut down all your organ systems after a single nibble. You can eat the grass, the lichen, and the inner bark of most trees, a thousand kinds of leaves. Not that you would, but you could. So much of privileged adulthood seems to take place here, in the space between the soaring highs and the killing disasters. It’s just plain life, beautiful in its familiar subtlety, its decency and dailiness.”

So after finishing the book, I felt a little more fragile than usual. My feelings were closer to the surface and at that moment, I remembered that I had to get six pictures of various stages of my middle son’s life to his future mother-in-law for their upcoming wedding shower. That entailed me and my husband opening up one of two enormous plastic tubs, with dusty lids, in the garage, full of photographs. Photos I haven’t viewed in years. Photos full of my children in baby clothes, and sports uniforms, and prom attire and cuddling with various pets. Photos full of vacations taken, birthdays celebrated, and sweet everyday moments which we were lucky enough to catch on camera, because something deep in us, wanting a sweet token of that simple moment for posterity. The box was full of pictures of people who are still in our lives at all different stages of their lives, and also of people who, for various reasons, are no longer in our lives. There were literally piles and piles of pictures of the life of our family, at every single stage of it. And so yeah, Monday got to me. Monday got me good.

Besides nostaglia, and meloncholy, and wishing that certain things had turned out differently, but also primarily feeling awe and gratefulness for how well most of those “raising the kids” years had gone, I also sensed myself feeling deep compassion for young mother me in all of those pictures. She was much prettier and thinner and obviously more engaged and earnest than I ever gave her credit for being. I was so damn tough on her a lot of the times. I wish I could reach back in time and offer her a glimpse of the grace I feel for her now. I guess the best thing I can do, is offer up that same grace to myself, now, in this meaningful stage of my life, so that when I am elderly and peering through the stacks (or reels) of photos and mementos, I can recognize myself as exactly who I am – a faithful forager, doing my best to enjoy and to savor my “just plain life, beautiful in its familiar subltety, its decency and dailiness.”

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

Memories

I got caught in a rabbit hole the other day when I was busy researching a movie I know that I will never choose to see. The movie is the new horror phenom called Backrooms, produced by a young man in his early twenties. I have not seen a true horror film in over a decade (I don’t mind thrillers, but pure horror films are not good for my psyche, nor for anyone who has to be around me (for weeks and weeks and weeks) after I have viewed one) What intrigued me the most during my exploration of my crazy little, pointless rabbit hole, was a comment made by someone underneath the movie trailer. The comment was this:

“They say when you remember something you aren’t recalling the original event, you’re just recalling the last time you remembered it. So it’s always going to be a little different every time.”

I don’t know if this statement is true or not. My husband detests when I start any conversation with “They say . . .” He is one who quickly asks, “Who’s “they”?” However, I have a hunch that the above statement does have a lot of truth to it. My youngest son was recently on a jury, and he stated that the most muddling part in the jury’s deliberations, was just how much the recollection of the details of the story of the event, had changed over the years.

Wouldn’t your current emotional state of being and your current state of affairs have a large effect on how you perceive not only what is happening now (and what you hope to have happen in the future), but also have a large effect on any memories which you currently bring to the forefront of your mind? When I am remembering past happenings, it always strikes me as unusual as to what actually has stuck out for me in any particular memory. Sometimes seemingly meaningless objects or statements are what sticks in my memory bank, the most. I’ve noticed as I’ve aged that my short term memory (which has never been my strong point to begin with) seems to worsen, yet I often surprise myself with what my long term memory is able to recall.

“They say” (ha!) when you’re focused on your past, you tend to live either in regret or in fantasy of a romanticized past, and when you are focused on the future, you are swarming yourself in anxiety. In today’s fast-paced, technologically focused world, mental health practitioners continually preach the power of staying present. We all know the wisdom of presence, but practicing it regularly, for some reason, is not an easy task for most of us. Maybe we don’t love our peaceful states of being, as much as we pretend that we do. Maybe being “peaceful” bores us. Perhaps we like to embellish our memories or freak out about our futures, because we like the the thrill of intense emotion more than we like to admit. Maybe being the narrator of our stories makes us feel like we have more control of ourselves and our lives than we really do? I don’t really know. I bet “they” know . . . . .

“We don’t remember days, we remember moments.” – Cesare Pavese

“Memory is the diary that we all carry about with us.” – Oscar Wilde

“What am I? … The sum of my past experiences, tied up together in a bundle with the string we call memory.” – H. G. Wells

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

Formula for a Great Life

“winning = knowing the most love. I know you just threw up a little bit in your mouth but I have to tell you the truth and that is it. If you know how to love people with abandon and you know how to let people love you back, you will have a great life. That’s not my opinion. That’s not fake news. That’s what the research tells us.” – from Kelly Corrigan’s commencement address

I think this is why people love weddings. Love wins at weddings. People are so open about their joy and their happiness and their love for each other at weddings. People more easily put away their differences, their insecurities, their inhibitions and their self-consciousness while celebrating a marriage. People show their love for each other with great abandon at weddings and everyone feels the celebration and the connection. Kelly Corrigan makes a great point, though. Sometimes it is really easy to love others, but it is harder to let other people love you back. But that’s not the meaning and fullness of love. When you don’t let others love you, you are robbing them of sharing their lovingness. Love is not a one-way street. Love is. Love has created everything. Love is all that there really is, and when you live your life, knowing that formula, not just at weddings or other celebratory events, but in every conscious moment of your daily living, you can’t help but have a great life. There is no better feeling, no better way of being than to throw caution to the wind, and to inhabit and to become love, with wild abandon, every single day of your life. If you don’t think that your life is going so great, try adding some love to the mix. Try narrowing down your everyday life to what makes you feel loved, loving and in the essence of love. The formula works and it is available to all of us. It is the natural core of our very being.

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

Anesthesia

My daughter-in-law hired a “day of wedding coordinator” named Anastasia for the wedding last week. My daughter-in-law’s mother’s Autocorrect feature on her cellphone, constantly changed the name “Anastasia” to “Anesthesia”, which while amusing, was actually quite apropos. I don’t know if I have ever met a more calm, soothing, serene woman than Anastasia in my entire life, particularly at a wedding. Anastasia was like an eight-armed goddess as she sewed, handed out flowers, took instant photos, steamed dresses, and calmly reminded everyone where they should be at any given time, all at once, and all of the while, maintaining the aura of pure peace and serenity. Whenever we had a question or concern, we would joke with each other that Anastasia would magically, and instantly appear, sometimes out of the fireplace, or the floorboards, to answer the question or to solve the problem, calmly and confidently. It reminded me of a long time ago, when we were on the Disney Cruise with our four young children. It was at that time that I started truly believing that Disney magic was actually the real deal, when again, the beyond cheerful crew and smiling staff appeared almost miraculously and instantly, in order to solve any issues or upsets, with just a wave of Tinkerbell’s wand. Throughout the day and night, my daughter-in-law kept repeating that Anastasia was easily the best money spent on the wedding.

It was at one point during the evening, right before the wedding was to start, that I blurted out, for no particular reason, “I WANT an Anastasia in my life.” Then, a second later, in a lightbulb moment, I blurted out, to no one in particular, but to anyone in earshot, “I think that I am my family’s Anastasia.”

My middle son, about to take a bite out of a piece of the pre-wedding pizza, matter-of-factly stated, “You are, Mom.” Then he continued to joke around with the other groomsmen.

This was one of those personal a-ha moments that came out of left field for me. It occurred to me, just in that very moment, that our family always did have a live-in Anastasia. It was me. We moms are our families’ “Anastasia/Anesthesia”. Now I’m not going to pretend that I ever pulled it off with such placid and tranquil vibes that the real Anastasia imbued. I’m not go to pretend that I never had a meltdown in a crisis. But overall, I fully understood that it was my job to make sure that our family’s schedule/celebrations/sporting events/ceremonies/appointments/feeding times/surprise emergencies, etc. etc. were all handled, and executed in a timely manner, day after day. I was the one who made sure that the Venn Diagram schedule of each member of our family, happened and flowed, in the best way possible. And all of my other fellow moms did the exact same thing for their families. And sometimes, we even pulled it off, with totally unruffled energy, making it look simple and seamless. Damn, we were good. Damn. We are good.

When our four kids were little, it was never the physical work that made me totally exhausted (although it certainly added to the mix), it was the mental exhaustion that got to me every time. I would often wish that someone would just hand me a timed schedule, and a to-do list, and a recipe and a plan for what to make for dinner, all which I could accomplish in a tranced-out robotic state and still have time and energy for my own interests and hobbies. (My husband will be forever scarred by the one time that he called me at a McDonalds to ask me what exactly he should order for each of the four kids, on a rare Mommy’s Night Out. Let’s just say that I didn’t have a serene response.)

I’m not writing this in “victim-mode.” This choice to be the matriarch of my family is the best decision that I have ever made in my entire life. I would make the exact same decision again and again. Being the female head of my family, is my honor, privilege and my greatest pride. However, lately, I am starting to get a better understanding and a closer-up glimpse, that it really is time for me to start pulling way back, scaling down my self-described duties, in order to just really put my focus on being a lighter-duty Anastasia – a concierge, mostly for myself. This is a strange adjustment. This transition doesn’t happen instantly. It starts slowly when one kid moves out, and then another. It becomes more obvious, when the kids graduate and find loving, responsible adult partners who are looking out for them, too. It’s the realization that the grocery cart doesn’t need to be nearly as full anymore. It’s the mental and emotional shift of being an active creator of the life of your family unit, to becoming the more passive experiencer/observer of the expanding lives of your family. It’s the realization that your family has now become plural. There are multiple sprouts growing in the family garden now. Your family is becoming “families.”

As a mom, I will always be an Anastasia/Anesthesia in some form or other. It comes with the territory. It’s a hard habit to break. Something tells me, I’ll pull off a serene Anastasia a little bit better with my future grandchildren. I certainly hope that I have the opportunity to try.

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

Last Week It Happened

It happened. The first of our four children, our eldest son, got married last week. It was the first marriage of any of our children. If you think that your own wedding was lovely and magical, you can’t even imagine how incredibly magical the marriages of your own children will be! I’m still floating on a cloud. I am still thanking the Powers That Be, for the pure foundation of love our son has found and created with his beautiful bride. I am still thanking the Powers That Be that our whole family has been a witness to their beautiful love and the divine ceremony and celebration that cemented their wonderful union. We are so very blessed and I feel it tingling in every cell of my body.

“A bride is the most beautiful poem ever written…” – Oscar Wilde

“To get the full value of joy you must have somebody to divide it with.” – Mark Twain

“The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.” – Nat King Cole

I have often told myself, in these most recent years in which our children have grown up into adulthood, that my job now is narrowed down to just love my family. Love them. Love them. Love them. I have already birthed them, fed them, guided them, taught them, scolded them, protected them, prayed for them (this will be ceaseless), sheltered them, prodded them, cheered them, advised them, comforted them, fought for them, and occasionally even apologized to them for my shortcomings, and now, our four amazing adult children are capable to do all of these things for themselves and for each other. I just need to narrow my motherly duties down to Love now. And this is the easiest thing for me to do. It comes naturally. Love them. Love them. Love them. I love my family ceaselessly and I am so grateful for the outward celebration of our love that was experienced, happily and beautifully, just a few short days ago.

“I think that enduring, committed love… is the most noble act anyone can aspire to.” – Nicholas Sparks

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

Soul Sunday

“The Safe Box”

Soon, I will be handing you the safe box of your life,

Similar to the ones I gave to your brothers when they embarked fully

into the horizon of their own adult lives.

The safe box will hold your birth certificate,

A paper token of the most intimate moment, you and I ever shared.

The safe box will hold your passport,

A stamped pamphlet of epic family adventures,

And brave escapades of your study abroad experience,

that you ventured out on your own, sending apprehension to the wind.

(I am so proud of your courage and your unapologetic lust for life.)

It will hold the aquamarine I purchased for you when you were a toddler,

A gem, for a gem of a girl who has turned into a dazzling, sparkler of a woman,

as I knew you would.

The safe box will later hold signs and tokens of major moments in your life to come:

Marriage certificate, deeds to homes, birth certificates of my grandchildren yet to be.

I now pass the safe box of your life fully unto you, for your own good keeping.

The time is now.

You are ready. (And I am trying to be ready, too.)

Please hold tightly to the safe box of your life. Keep it secure.

It holds important things and tools to lead your life fully and freely.

But most importantly, it holds a piece of my heart that will never, ever leave you.

No, that’s not really true.

That little, vital piece of my heart was never really ever kept in the safe box.

That ferociously beating little piece of my heart always was,

And it will ever and always be,

with you, my precious baby girl.

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

What Makes It Work

“Shared values are far more important than shared interests.” – Nancy Caciola

The above quote is true of any relationship, romantic or platonic. You trust and respect people who share your same values and you get inspired by, or at the very least, curious about the many varied interests and passions and hobbies that different people have, which occupy their time and minds. Having different interests keeps things intriguing and vital, but having different values, keeps things guarded and suspicious and often disappointing. You usually can tell people who share your same values because people put most of their time and energy and resources into what matters to them most. You usually just feel intuitively more natural and comfortable when in the company of people who share your same values. You typically feel drained or on edge or even defensive, with people who don’t share the same values as you. However, the worst you ever feel with someone who has different interests than you, is perhaps nothing more than a little bored.

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

Navigation Tools

This was a big weekend for the world. Disclaimer: I will never turn this into a political blog. If anything, I want this space to be a break from all things turbulent and divisive out in the big, bad world. That being said, just a couple of months in, this year is already proving to be a year full of provocations. In the end, all provocations tend to stoke two big, big fires, sometimes at the same time. These fires are Love and Fear.

I read a really good reminder over the weekend. It said: “Let your emotions inform you, not control you.” When you say, “I am angry”, that is not correct. You are the person feeling the emotion of anger. You are feeling anger. What is that anger telling you? What is that anger informing you of? What direction do you want your anger to take you in? Do not give Anger the reigns. Anger is just a feeling. Do not let Anger or Fear or even positive emotions like Joy and Elation take the lead or stoke them to the point of being overwhelmed or overtaken by them. Use your emotions as informants. Use your emotions as navigation tools. Invite your emotions to the table, along with reason, and reliable factual information and the ability to explore other perspectives. And most importantly, give this meeting of all of your emotions, your reason, the facts, and respected viewpoints, the gift of time in order to process any situation. In short, play the long game.

Last week, I had a conversation with my daughter about something that she was upset about and like so many mothers, I became as upset as she had been, because as mothers, we don’t like to see our babies upset. We tend to swallow up their emotions into the storm of our own emotions and then Heaven help anyone who is in the vicinity of Hurricane Mama Bear. But the truth is, my daughter had already stewed on the situation for a few days, and her emotions were already dissipating. Reason and Perspective had made inroads into the conversation. She was already at Step 5, when she introduced me to her upset. I, just learning about her situation, was immediately blown in the storm of Step 1, where emotion is so turbulent and so overwhelming, that you tend to forget that you aren’t actually the storm, you are just feeling the effects of the storm. Today, after a few days of exploring what my feelings were trying to tell me, I am also at a final stage of processing the situation. I am feeling calm. (Notice that I didn’t write “I am calm.” Calm is a feeling, not an identity.) I understand the nuances and the complexity of the situation. The initial “sting” has worn off and I see a path forward for my daughter and for myself, that includes adjusted expectations, grace, a focus on the long game, and a reminder of the importance of healthy boundaries and direct communication.

“You can’t control the waves, but you can learn to surf.” – Unknown

“When awareness is brought to an emotion, power is brought to your life.” – Tara Meyer Robson

“Don’t make permanent decisions off of temporary emotions.” – Unknown

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