Uneventful Evening

Herself has taken the night off from taekwondo in order to rest the hip that has been bothering her.  In the late afternoon, she occupies herself with preparing something interesting for dinner for a change:  chicken and lentils.  The recipe does have migraine-inducing ingredients, so she cannot consume it; nevertheless, she reasons, her Beloved and possibly the two non-vegetarian Offspring -- since they are not afflicted by food-induced headaches -- will enjoy it.

E-mail from her Beloved; he is working late.  Ah, well, his chicken and lentils will wait until tomorrow.  Offspring the Third politely declines to try the recipe; Offspring the Second is holed up in his room, playing his drums, and cannot be tempted out to eat.  Offspring the First is making plans to go out with her friends.  Offspring the Third enjoys some cartoons on the television.  Oh, the phone rings!  It is Herself's sister - huzzah, adult conversation.  Alas, sister's telephone time is short, for she has an appointment. The call ends quickly.

Herself sighs.  She does not feel like playing the piano.  She is not inspired to tackle the laundry, the sweeping or the vacuuming.  She could pay the bills, or tackle a work project.  Or clean the pets.  Unappealing ideas, those.  She waters the plants in the pots out front.  They are struggling with the intense desert heat and lack of precipitation; they look sad and slightly withered. 

She feels sad and slightly withered, too. 

Florence Nightingale

Though we all suffer
In individual ways,
We have the same need:

For someone who cares
For someone who brings relief
For someone who helps.

I'd like nothing more
Than to have a healing touch
To soothe away hurt -

To provide comfort,
To ease physical pain, and
To lessen heartache.

I am most alive
When I care for others.
I am here for you.

Piano and I

Herself has some new sheet music.  It is rather difficult, and she does enjoy a musical challenge.  She has pulled out some of her older music as well, and has spent multiple hours in the past day at her piano.  It soothes her and makes her content. 

In her youth, Herself was required to participate in regular piano recitals.  They were always frightening, worrisome events, and the stress and anxiety generated by any public performance were hardly bearable.  It is a relief to have left those days behind. 

As an adult, she plays purely for her own pleasure.  In fact, she now considers playing for someone else to be a rather intimate act, and will decline to do so for anyone except for her loved ones.  If you, beloved reader, ask her gently, I know that she will play for you.

It is cruel, you know, that music should be so beautiful.  It has the beauty of loneliness of pain; of strength and freedom.  The beautify of disappointment and never-satisfied love.  The cruel beauty of nature and everlasting beauty of monotony.

- Benjamin Britten

Birds of a Feather

Friendship is a miracle by which a person consents to view from a certain distance, and without coming any nearer, the very being who is necessary to him as food.

– Simone Weil

Unrealistic Expectations

Herself looks after the household.  Most of the time, she enjoys doing so.  There's always a certain satisfaction in the routines of tidying the house, taking care of the laundry, attending to the pets, preparing meals.  The pleasure is magnified when the tasks are separated rather than piled one upon the other; for example, cooking dinner while in the camper-trailer is usually quite enjoyable, because no other tasks require attention simultaneously. 

The tricky part occurs when multitasking is necessary.  It is irritating to listen to the guinea pigs wheeking and begging for vegetables while Herself is in the middle of grating zucchini for the zucchini bread.  It is annoying when the kitchen table is covered with toys and books, because the items must be cleared away before the steadily growing pile of clean laundry can be folded on that surface; yet using the couch as a folding area instead is an impossibility, because the dog fur must be vacuumed off of it first.  And how can a meal be prepared when the dishwasher is full and clean and there are dirty dishes waiting in the sink?

These are the times when Herself looks at the other members of the household and thinks, why cannot they SEE what needs to be done?  Do they not hear the dogs barking to be let into the house?  Do they not notice the basket of folded laundry waiting to be brought upstairs?  Why is that pencil still in that spot on the floor, a day and a half later? 

She understands that other members of the household (and particularly her Beloved) are quite busy, and frequently preoccupied with work or homework.  She wants to ensure that everyone has some time for relaxation and enjoyment, too.  Nevertheless, there are moments when she cannot understand why it is that there is no spontaneous initiative to perform that one tiny task that could easily be done. At the same time, she also loathes asking them to do things - as we all know, Herself would rather chew off her own leg than ask for any help.  So she is caught between the proverbial rock and hard place.

It is her problem, though, not theirs. They are not mind-readers.

She must come to terms with the fact that others will not spontaneously do what Herself feels needs to be done, and that she must, in fact, request assistance.  Perhaps she will start with trying to train them to ask, "What can I do for you?"  It always warms her heart when another poses that question, even if her answer at the moment is, "nothing, thank you."  It will require a concentrated change in how Herself handles matters, and that will be difficult for her.  It is a necessary adjustment, though.  Step by step, and with her consistent effort, she will get the help she would like. 

Journey

Our life is a short time in expectation, a time in which sadness and joy kiss each other at every moment.  There is a quality of sadness that pervades all the moments of our lives.  It seems that there is no such thing as a clear-cut pure joy, but that even in the most happy moments of our existence we sense a tinge of sadness.  In every satisfaction, there is an awareness of limitations.  In every success, there is the fear of jealousy.  Behind every smile, there is a tear.  In every embrace, there is loneliness.  In every friendship, distance.  And in all forms of light, there is the knowledge of surrounding darkness . . .  But this intimate experience in which every bit of life is touched by a bit of death can point us beyond the limits of our existence.  It can do so by making us look forward in expectation to the day when our hearts will be filled with perfect joy, a joy that no one shall take away from us.

- Henri Nouwen

Radio Silence

This past weekend, Herself, her Beloved, and the Offspring took the camper-trailer out for a short vacation.  The first day was occupied with a reunion of one of the many branches of Beloved's gigantic family tree.  The second and third days were spent primarily in the Davis Mountains State Park, where the family was joined by Herself's Cherished Friend. There was no cell phone signal, so calls, e-mail, text, FaceBook, and other contact with the outside world were not available. So lovely.

There was a tiny bit of hiking, some interesting wildlife, and a fair amount of relaxation.  The menfolk practiced knot-tying and discussed Manly Things; Cherished Friend conversed with, and entertained, the whole family; the teenage Offspring accepted the lack of communication with their friends and interacted more with one another and the family; Offspring the Third climbed trees and poked around; and Herself got to cook assorted meals without any interruptions.  There were deer, javelinas, and turkey vultures to admire.  It was quiet.  The Milky Way was visible at night.  So many stars.  

Herself got up extra early the last morning and went for a walk up the mountain view drive while everyone else was still asleep.  She could spy the family's camper-trailer and Cherished Friend's camper-trailer from far above.  She watched the sunrise.  She waited patiently while a herd of javelinas, including a wee baby, crossed the road.  So restful.

The trip was far too short.  Hopefully, another similar trip will appear on the horizon soon.  I am looking forward to it already.