Warmths

I am making a list. It is a compilation of ordinary gestures, small in their actions, yet noteworthy in their thoughtfulness.  I shall reveal it in due course in the season of Thanksgiving, when it suits us particularly well to remember such deeds.

Tiny kindnesses

Blow their breath into my heart

Wakening new warmth. 

Grey ashes, scattered

Embers of love, igniting

Gratitude - complete. 

Such little moments,

So easily overlooked - 

Together, form joy. 

Noise

Silence is one of the great victims of modern culture. 
- John O'Donohue, Anam Cara

We had an opportunity this weekend to enjoy silence.

It was a particular sort of silence:  the silence that occurs when ordinary noises are extinguished.  Cars, trains, leaf-blowers, lawn-mowers, trash cans, all inaudible; mechanical klunkings and hummings and honkings and buzzings, all absent.  There was no tick of a clock, no swish of clothes-washer or dishwasher, no gurgle of a drain, rumble of a vacuum, or whir of the air conditioning.  Not even the music of the iPod, which Herself usually employs to drown out the racket of daily life.

The detritus of sound, all swept away.

Instead, there were solely the gurgle of a stream, the chirp of crickets, the crackle of campfire. Talk on occasion, and comfortable lulls in between sentences. The turn of a page of a book. A birdcall here and there. That was all.

Such marvelous aural space, to quiet the mind and soothe the overstimulated, exhausted brain.

We need to find more of such silence.  Even tiny pieces, here and there, would be rejuvenating.

Stream

No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man. - Heraclitus

Vocabulary

Sometimes, the only words that can be made with one's letter tiles, are ones that invoke slightly naughty thoughts.

Water Yourself

As she continues to work on making arrangements for a grownup camping trip, Herself has run into a typical difficulty of parenthood. Herself has no caregiver able to come stay in her home to look after Offspring the Second and Offspring the Third, and so, they will be delivered to the caregivers' home for the selected weekend in due course.

She informed the Offspring significantly in advance; she likes to give them plenty of time to contemplate any potential disruption in routine, so that by the time it occurs, they will not be terribly crabby - or at least will be resigned to the changes from the regular schedule. The Offspring -- creatures of habit that they are-- were mildly (to medium-ly) disgruntled when she told them about the possibility of their having to spend a future weekend elsewhere besides at home, although they are adjusting to the idea.  It will be one weekend, a tiny blip in time; she knows the Offspring will manage, especially since the caregivers are lovely, fun, kind people. The Offspring always manage to rise to the occasion when need be.  They are fairly self-sufficient teenagers, and even more, they are good eggs.

Herself nevertheless feels guilty that she must momentarily uproot the Offspring and inconvenience others, solely so that she may have some time alone with adults.  She feels selfish.  Yet isn't she allowed to enjoy such an event periodically?

The Cult of Motherhood extends far beyond cloth diapers and baby-wearing and extended nursing, beyond helicopter parenting and micromanaging of schoolwork and complex schedules. One sees in the news these days -- and hears on the playground or in the grocery store -- the tales of the Super Devoted Mothers. "Oh, I wouldn't ever leave little Progeny with anyone" and "I've never used a babysitter" and "I just love being with them so much, I can't bear to leave them."  It's a kind of self-inflicted martyrdom. 

Some women (and men, too, no doubt) expect that every woman's life should revolve solely around her children.  At what cost? Piece by piece by piece, the woman's soul is given away, and her personality is entirely consumed by the needs and wants of the Children.   The woman becomes nothing, except what she is in relation to the Children.

It's like being eaten alive.

Yes, the vast majority of mothers put their children first, and that is how it should be:  first priority is the children. Oftentimes, this action means that women end up leaving their own needs and wants unattended.  Still, women do not become non-individuals once they become mothers. A woman still has -- and should have -- dreams, hopes, aspirations of her own. She has herself.  She cannot give it all away; for once the children are grown, what would be left?   Even devoted mothers should take a few molecules of time away from the children, to relax and recharge and consider themselves for a change.

A woman needs to meet her own needs on occasion. She should be able to nurture herself every now and then, without guilt - and without having to justify her decision to do so. 

Dog Hobbies

Large elderly oafish dog recently became enamored of interacting with the neighbors' dogs. For many days in a row, she galloped across the yard and flung herself upwards at the rock wall, sticking her nose through the iron bars at the top, barking furiously.  The neighbors' dogs behaved similarly. Occasionally, one of them would manage to rake his teeth across large elderly oafish dog's snout.  Large elderly oafish dog's nose began to resemble a zebra.

We have put a wheelbarrow and some upended chairs in that corner in the yard.  Though it is a rather unattractive arrangement, the obstacle has momentarily suspended large elderly Oafish dog's activities.  Her snoot can now begin to heal properly.

Silly old girl.

Happy Beans

One day, Herself made refried bean burritos for Beloved Husband's lunch.  When she passed by the stove later, she noticed that the leftover beans seemed quite cheerful.

Clearly, this was the work of Offspring the Third:  only he puts noses in his smiley faces.  It makes me smile, too.

:-)