Sunday morning

What do you do when you reach a moment where you realize that, even in mid-life and just when you thought you may be doomed to repeat your bad habits, you actually have evolved? In some minuscule, subtle shifting sort of way, that seemed to happen this week. And, not only once...but several times. And not just myself, I witnessed the evolution of relationships. Even as I write this I hear a voice in my head reminding me that life is not linear. My bad habits will indeed (and have indeed! for always and always) repeat themselves. I'll give into my vices and familiar ways to self sabotage (old Larry Hof language Elaine!), but by gum, unless or until I lose all ability to remember, I will know that I have touched change.

So what am I talking about? I'm talking about a few moments this week. Me, Karrie, I took a stand. I said my truth, and in the workplace. I took on a role of supervisor handed to me mostly out of my colleague's avoidance of a certain office situation, so not under the purest of circumstances. But you know, I was perhaps more up to the task than I gave myself credit for. Facing a difficult personnel relationship, and framing it the way I thought best. It's really all about saying what needs to be said.

And then it happened again...when I decided to make it clear that certain conversations in front of my children with "his" friends are not acceptable.
"Do not let it happen again!" Turning outrage into change. Hearing my children say, "you should get mad more often Mom!" The more ME there is, the more I give to them, because, that's all I have to give to them - myself. My authentic self.

And then, it happened again! I brought a bigger portion of myself along to my "relationship" (*now here's a dilemma, what do I call the relationship I'm in? Most of you don't even know it, some of you just a glimmer...but it's a place where I'm learning and growing and digging around in the "dirt" I so longed for....ok, we'll just call him "E" and we won't say "boyfriend" because, well, that just sounds silly). I, remember me Karrie, said how mad I was about something...and that anger was accepted and, gulp, appreciated!! Why didn't any of you tell me that when you put your real, true, righteous anger out there, and it's heard, that POOF, it goes away. There's really no need to hold onto it. Done. Move on...get to the next place. YEAH.

Honestly, this week has been about relaxing; relaxing into myself. Actively participating in the faith that I can trust the sliver of my true self that I've gotten to know, because it's not ultimately from or about me. It's just about the truth. It's something about spirituality.

Let me give you a snapshot of the week, that explains why I feel so moved this morning to write and give thanks: my yard (remember now, I have a yard!), with me, "E" and my Dad cutting grass, trimming bushes, raking, and me using a tiller for my GARDEN to get it ready to plant! Did you get the Karrie, E and Dad visual? Oh, and did I mention 3 dogs to complete the visual? Yep, the kids were missing (they are at their Dad's), and boy do I wish they'd been here. Do I need to say more? I don't think so.

DIRT.

BEAUTIFUL, RICH, DEEP, FULL OF POTENTIAL .... DIRT.

I'm starting to understand its appeal for me. Why I'm drawn to it. Why I might need to not only get into it, but take pictures of it. I feel like un-tilled dirt sometimes. Life lived on the surface. Not much digging. By digging, I don't mean exploring, I've done some of that. By digging I mean action...facing fears, movement, being present, taking a damn full breath, speaking my words clearly and with volume enough to be heard. To touch that dirt, and just feel it, dig around in it. When you are in the dirt, you are just there...surrounded by potential. You don't really know for what, but you need that dirt to get it going. The rest really isn't about anything you have control over. It will come. "Way will open."

I'll take a leap here and share this with you as a way to explain (mostly to myself) what E is all about for me right now...though it may seem unrelated to the rest of this piece, trust me, it's not. It is the piece.


an excerpt from Wendell Berry's "The Country of Marriage" (do not get caught up in the title)...

"...Was it something I said that bound me to you, some mere promise, or worse, the fear of loneliness and death? A (wo)man lost in the woods in the dark, I stood still and said nothing. And then there rose in me, like the earth's empowering brew rising in root and branch, the words of a dream of you I did not know I had dreamed. I was a wanderer who feels the solace of his native land under his feet again and moving in his blood. I went on, blind and faithful. Where I stepped my track was there to steady me. It was no abyss that lay before me, but only the level ground."

wow. wow. wow. How did he know? Wendell rocks.


I love you all. Thanks for being part of my dirt.

Valentine's Day

Love, Love, Love to you all.

I am writing this without much of a clue as to what will emerge. I usually write after writing! That is, I will do those morning pages...that dump of the mind's clutter and often critical voices...and then some nugget of a thought will start to make itself clear. But tonight I am winging it. Because, after all, it is Valentine's Day. The day of sweethearts? The day of the crazy culture putting expectations into our heads. I remember those days when I thought that there were tangible measures of love...like a gift, flowers (best only if delivered in front of others at work or somewhere), cards. Something to PROVE that love was there and I was actually being considered and thought of. Only made real by the knowing eyes of others.

But tonight, I got a tangible gift of a different kind. A visit. A visitor. A presence. The culture's agonizing litany of expectations has all but disappeared in this homecoming of a relationship. And tonight, there was another step closer. A stepping into my week of domesticity and mothering. A hand out to my child. Eye contact, the effort to make it, and to mouth the words "I love you."

Knowing your beloved is out there, living in the world, with thoughts of you throughout the day. That you are influencing their view of the landscape, as they are influencing yours. Wanting to be your best self. To even know the concept of "beloved." Beyond Valentine, lover or sweetheart. Not "just", but just, your touchstone each day.

Happy Valentine's Day to me.

Just read this...

Really, the best possible thing I could write today is this strong suggestion: go to 37days.typepad.com and read this hilarious, important message and challenge from Patti. I love her. I am excited because I have wanted her to come and do her work at Guilford, and she is doing just that with her business partner David on Feb. 20th.
Hey, I asked for what I wanted.

Isn't this just the perfect message to follow the theme of "think bigger, see wider, get out of the jar...?" Know what you know. What do you want?

Abundance

When I was in a dark place a few years ago, scared out of my mind, I met Melanie Weidner at Guilford. She is a Quaker artist and spriritual director. I was new at Guilford and was flailing around in these dark waters looking for a handhold. I listened to my instincts enough to know that there had to be some handholds at Guilford...somewhere. Melanie was a visiting lecturer on campus to do some art workshops and had offered to meet with anyone who wanted to have a one-on-one session with her. So I called and set up an appointment. I probably wouldn't have done this at all had I not been feeling pretty desperate. I mean, I was a "therapist" in some alternate universe so I would have been highly skeptical of anyone without the "right" credentials. Yeah, that was just a flimsy shield against my own fear of vulnerability. (Turns out I had only been looking for sweet vulnerability in myself, and in a loved one.) And, who in their right mind allowed me to be called a "therapist" anyway?! Oh, that's grist for another mill someday.

So, I made an appointment to meet with Melanie, having never laid eyes on this woman. I met her in the Moon Room on campus. This is a beautiful, small, simple, serene Meeting for Worship room with benches in a Quaker square. My dear, dear friend Dick Dyer passed away in that room while delivering a talk to freshman parents in 1997. I can hardly be in there for anytime at all without crying. It's a place with a heavy presence for me, and was that way even before Dick made his grand exit. (I miss him so much.) Melanie was waiting for me there. "She's a child" I said in my head. She is a very young looking 30 something year old
( barely 30 I think). Her demeanor was welcoming, kind, eager, intensely genuine. I tried, but couldn't let her age or spunkiness block my way. I needed all that eagerness to help and hold my hand that she seemed to offer before the first word was spoken. I was in the place of needing....not a place I was used to or comfortable with. I basically let Melanie hold me up as I poured my heart out about being in this new territory, scared to death (did I mention I was scared?). I was scared but I was also not unhappy...I knew somehow that this new terrain was exactly where I needed to be. We talked about possibility and faith, and letting ourselves "be" in the darkness. She really understood my mixed up feelings of fear, anticipation, rightness and confusion.

One word I think of when I think of Melanie is "abundance." It's strange to write about it this morning, after just reading about women in Haiti eating dirt in their desperate measures to find food. But perhaps it does apply when you think about the abundance that we experience, and how, if it was shared, dirt as a staple would not be necessary. I digress, again. Melanie talked about God as abundant. That word made so much sense to me at that moment in my life. It goes back to seeing "small." I had lived with tunnel vision, not embracing, at least, the concept of abundance. I had lived thinking I had to hold onto every shred of everything, because there just might not be enough. It might all go away suddenly. Melanie's whole posture is the antithesis to that mentality. She speaks of the vastness of God, and the abundance of love and gifts available to all of us. When I thought about that, I felt as if I started to understand faith for the first time in my life. It's about abundance. Unlimited love. Being given this new, scary, unknown landscape, I was actually experiencing the abundance of God. It all made sense to me, at least for a moment.

It was quite an experience for me to allow Melanie to care for me by listening with such empathy. She has become a trusted touch point person. Just seeing her face when she comes back to Guilford is all I need to be reminded of abundance.

I am feeling such abundance today, and friends, I had a completely "in the jar" day yesterday. The old Karrie demons of self-doubt and insecurity were having a party in my head. I am only able to take the blinders off my limited vision in a small and feeble, human way. But when I acknowledge that they are there, God in God's abundance, opens up the way. Way opens friend, way opens. Despite ourselves.

I was thinking of listing all the books I have started right now...(oh how I wish I would complete one!). But one especially comes to mind today. I'm not sure if I can say why exactly I'm making this connection today. But anyway, it's called THE BARN AT THE END OF THE WORLD; The Apprenticeship of a Quaker, Buddhist Shepherd, by Mary Rose O'Reilley. I know you all would like it. When I met Mary Rose (ok, yes it was at Guilford), she looked like an austere, Quaker woman. Those kind who totally intimidate me with their seemingly perfect, simplistic lifestyles; completely centered and clear of mind. Her hair was in a a tight bun, and her clothes were probably hand woven, simple, plain, with a small but daring splash of deep eggplant (probably dyed with eggplant juice, I supposed) in her SHAWL. I was not going to relate to this woman. In fact, she is the very prototype of person that pushes every single inadequate button I have. And then....she opened her mouth. She is hysterically funny, irreverant, and so full of humility. She was so honest about her weaknesses, temptations and struggles. I could not get enough of her. She did a poetry reading (I hate poetry readings, ok, I confess it), but her's were incredibly open, funny, poignant. I laughed and cried...all the qualities of a great movie!

So you should read this book. I'm almost finished! (1/2 way done in my book is practically done.)

Here are some quotes from Mary Rose:

"Things go well or badly without explanation, but our humble vision of a good outcome (call it prayer) turns the will of time."

"How I admire messy individuals. What orderly minds they must have. I require clean spaces without to mediate the chatter within. My mind, unlike my dresser drawers, is full of mismatched socks and odd kitchen implements."
(that describes me to a "tee")

(love this one)
"Whatever your eye falls on-for it will fall on what you love-will lead you to the questions of your life, the questions that are incumbent upon you to answer, because that is how the mind works in concert with the eye. The things of this world draw us where we want to go."

Finally today, I have to say to each of you who might read this, that you represent that abundance. You have given me such unending, and unconditional love. I cannot ever believe my good fortune in knowing you.

There is abundance for our eyes.

February

It's February...already. I wrote 2 posts on this blog in January, and even let a few friends know about it. That is big stuff. You set a goal Karrie? You acted on it? I do think that most of us limit our greatness potential because of our fears and thinking small. Some of what I've been through the last several years has left me understanding that experiment sometimes done with flies....they are put in a jar for a long time, and then, when the lid is taken off, they just stay in the jar. They have forgotten that they can fly out. They have become conditioned to their immediate space and have embraced it as their whole universe. Or maybe those flies look up and outside of that jar and are scared shitless! "It's too big, too far, too UNKNOWN" I can just hear them saying to their other fly friends. Partially semi-conscious (I have lived in THAT space) and partially scared out of their minds (I have been there too-mostly some part of everyday), those flies just say "I'm cool with this dang jar, how about you guys?"

Recently, as I have envisioned life outside the jar. I have perhaps taken short excursions above that lid. It's scary, yes, to move beyond the safety of the jar. Is this what all that talk of faith was about? Daring to move beyond the jar, to unknown territory, and know somehow that you'll be ok? That something beyond anything you can conceive of is running this show? Not my feebly small mind? I remember walking on the beach one time and seeing the sand right in front of my feet, maybe the face of a passerby if they walked right by me, etc. Then, it's as though I got different lenses and I started to look wider...there were 100's and 1000's of things I didn't see before....it was amazing to me how limited my vision had been. I adopted this mantra that day..."there's more than you can see, there's more than you can see."

Today could be one of those "out of the jar" days for me. I'm still experimenting on how personal to get on this blog thing...but only my loved ones are reading this. So if you haven't checked it out, there are really good things happending at Guilford college these days! I get to go be part of something good today...I see it with my little eyes, but have to believe that there's so much more than I can see. I hope I can be open to air above the lid, new views and vantage points, enough to contribute with a positive pebble thrown.

PROSPECTIVE IMMIGRANTS PLEASE NOTE, by Adrienne Rich

Either you will go through this door or you will not go through.

If you go through there is always the risk of remembering your name.

Things look back at you and you must look back and let them happen.

If you do not go through it is possible to live worthily.

To maintain your attitudes, to hold your position, to die bravely.

But much will blind you, much will evade you, at what cost, who knows?

The door itself makes no promises.

It is only a door.

Good morning

I find myself wanting to write to you this morning. I realize you might never read it...but at least by writing I will be able to have a record of what I was thinking today, in case I forget! (Which is highly likely.) I am more forgetful lately. I keep hoping it's because I seemed to live my life like one, big run-on sentence last year. It was mostly because of enthusiasm I think, but man it was exhausting. I don't think I ever really completed a sentence in my own head. Enough of that.



It's really cold here this morning, 19 degrees. My hot water faucet doesn't work. The cold runs but not the hot. Ok, homeowners 101. Where is the turn off water valve? How do I shut off the hot water heater? I need to know all this. No work today, so I get to have an extended morning time. What do other people do in the morning? Have they berated themselves for years, like me, about not spending enough quiet/meditative time in the a.m., along with self-scolding about not exercising early and enough, not writing in the journal consistently, not eating a healthy breakfast, walking the dogs, reading the paper (s- local, NYT, checking out NPR online....), making a healthy breakfast for the kids, spending time with them before school? Is that too much to ask for the time between 5:30 and 7:00 a.m.????!!!!! That voice inside my head has told me for years that I ought to be doing all of this....do other people have that voice? Trouble is, I want to do it all. I met the Quaker cartoonist Signe Wilkinson last year when she came to Guilford (yep, there are perks). She said every morning she reads about 3 papers, exercises, and eats b'fast before she goes off to create her next cartoon at the office. I think about her a lot. I want to be that organized. I want to have a routine.



I have gotten into a sort of habit of writing morning pages a la The Artist's Way, by Julia Cameron. It's been a freeing process (thanks Kay for that book by the way) because her instruction is to free-write for about 3 pages, right after you wake up (I make coffee first). Just write, anything. "I have nothing to say my mind is a blank I don't want to do this" counts just as much as the occasional epiphany. She calls this a mind "dump" I think. Just get all of that chatter out onto the page so you can clear your mind. I love that.



That leads me to list some things I love to read (on and off line)...



The Artist's Way, the Julia Cameron book.



my friend Patti Digh's blog: 37days.typepad.com (if you haven't read this, do yourself a favor. She is a great, funny, brilliant person. We were at Guilford together but have recently gotten to know each other. I'll be stealing, I mean sharing, a lot of what I read from her blog here. I do read that every day.)



any links from Patti's blog (now she is becoming vegan, damn it. Now I have to reevaluate my eating habits! She does have some cool links to vegan sites, books, etc. Can I be a partial vegan?)



npr.org



storycorps



This American Life



FolkAlley (folk music streamed online)



Pandora (you create your own online radio music station...it's the best)



There's more, but I have to pace myself here! I want to know what you love online and otherwise!



I am obviously a blogging novice, and I'm experimenting with what I want to do here. But one thing I thought of is sharing powerful quotes that I come across. I now save them in this beautiful, little book, hand-made by Claire (I do love it Claire!). Speaking of houses/being a homeowner, here is one of my favorites:

Housing Shortage

I tried to live small.

I took a narrow bed.

I held my elbows to my sides.

I tried to step carefully

and to think softly

and to breathe shallowly.

In my portion of air.

And to disturb no one.

Yet see how I spread out and I cannot help it.

I take to myself more and more, and I take nothing

that I do not need, but my needs grow like weeds,

all over and invading.

I clutter this place.

With all the apparatus of living.

You stumble over it daily.

And then my lungs take their fill.

And then you gasp for air.

Excuse me for living,

but since I am living,

given inches, I take yards,

Taking yards, dream of miles,

and a landscape, unbounded

and vast in abandon.

You too dreaming the same.

-Naomi Replansky

I have to say, reading this again, is so powerful. The first part, when I read it, I do almost stop breathing again. I couldn't breathe for a long time. Breathing is so good.

Be well, and thank you.

Starting off...

"Don't let the perfect be the enemy of the good." Voltaire said that originally, but my amazing friend Maia is the one who knows I need to hear it every single day. So, this morning I am here on the computer, filling out the template for this new blog, trying really hard not to let the perfect be the enemy of the good. "It won't sound right; they won't have time to read it or respond; I can't write; I won't stay with it..."all going through my head right about now. But the biggie, "I will do it later when I have it all figured out and it will be just right (perfect??) - now that is my #1, fool proof mantra that is sure to sabotage the good intentions of Karrie!


So, my beautiful friends, I am jumping off the cliff. Why wait? I am 48 for god's sake, it is about time: time to let you know that each of you influence my thinking on a regular basis; time to throw a pebble out there so at least it'll have a chance of making a ripple; time to make connections/re-connections with you so you will know how much you mean to me; time to ask for your inspiring thoughts; time to look at this beautiful web.



The really big cliff jump happens now, when I write my first words to you about what is on my mind this January. Here goes (don't let the perfect be the enemy of the good, don't let the
perfect be the enemy of the good, don't let the perfect be the enemy of the good...).



I had the good fortune of a restorative break over the holidays. Two full weeks off from "work" at Guilford College. I love Guilford. I spend every day thinking about Guilford. I love my job and feel privileged to have it. But, after almost 4 years, it seems I needed a time out, and I got one. I put the computer away, and tried to hide all the files I brought home from the office, promising myself not to look at them until the end of the holiday. I closed the Guilford shade in my mind and amazingly, had a lot more space and light to see Julia and Joseph, the house, the dogs, the holiday, family and friends, and me. I slowed down. In meeting for worship, I heard something about letting Christmas come to me, instead of trying to grab it before it got away. My breathing got slower. I didn't stress about all the sugar I was eating (at least not in that self-loathing kind of way), or the fact that the exercise had slowed down too. I thought I might need to embrace my mammal self - the me that is connected to earth and seasons, and who might need to slow down, sit by the fire, take a nap, look out the window.



I had grown to really dislike the whole new year's resolution thing. I hate to admit that I followed the in vogue crowd by shunning the whole process (I hate to follow the crowd, but oh well what narcissistic flaw makes me think I'm above the crowd???). I just didn't like the big conversation about a "new year" and "clean slate" so for years just tried to avoid talking about it. But something weird happened in the last few weeks...some clarity about next year started to come forth. The thought of a new start began to sound pretty good. Relaxing my stubborn-ness and giving in to the ideas of the "new year" as a land mark in my life seemed suddenly, refreshing!?



I think it all has something to do with fear, and once again, not letting the perfect be the enemy of the good. So much of the last 4 or 5 years in my life have had to do with facing my fears. And, even though it seems risky to say so out loud, I may be less afraid today than I have been before. I did take a big jump...off of what many viewed as "Mount Security" (or maybe some thought of as "Mount Sanity!") towards what I viewed (by faith alone) as the ever closer shore of "home." (That's another post.) But something about facing fears and taking action has made me less afraid of setting goals and uttering words about what I want to do more of this year. The "this year" part is the really scary part. What if 2009 comes around, (and it will because isn't a year about as long as a month used to be?) and I sucked at everything? Well, I will suck at everything, but just maybe there will be somedays that I get out of my own way enough not to suck at something!


Ready, set, run, JUMP! Here goes...more thoughts about how I'd like to spend the few, precious moments we get on the planet. Funny, when I first started writing these thoughts down, they came out in the negative: "don't do this, stop doing that, don't be afraid to...." I have made myself phrase them in the positive.

• things to do everyday (in no particular order): put healthy fuel into this body; exercise; do some physical labor-some physical chore that is something of a challenge; write; read something; plan the day as best as you know how; answer these 3 questions: "What have I received from others? What have I given to others or given back to others? What trouble and bother have I caused them? (from Naikan - Japanese structured self-reflection developed by Yoshimot Ishin-more later)


• do things as they come up


• make goals


• complete the thoughts you have; go towards the visionary thoughts; find complete-able actions within these thoughts


• finish what you start; pick tasks that you can complete


• turn fear to love; know that visions, dreams hopes emerging out of some place of love, have potential to grow if you put them in the dirt


• see the vision or goal, then you can figure out the steps to get there


• let the "good" be enough - you aren't in control of the perfect anyway! do your job of putting out the positive "pebbles" - pick up a pebble, put it in motion


• slow down


• take the lead, step out, take charge of what you can be in charge of...which is only your intention, but choose intentions

So, there's a theme it seems: not being afraid to have a dream. No, more than that. Go ahead Karrie, dream a dream. I hope we can have this conversation and dream dreams together. That feels like a bold request, but also like one that just makes sense. I read this quote today by Andre Gide: "The most important things to say are those which often I did not think necessary for me to say because they were too obvious." How many times have I said that to myself? But how many times has what seems to be the most obvious of thoughts turned out to be exactly the important pebble to throw out there (but I didn't because of fear...)?

"Life's meaning emerges from conversation in community with people you love," (David Pollard).

You are my community of love.

Let's have a conversation.

I will not die an unlived life.

I will not live in fear

of falling or catching fire.

I choose to inhabit my days,

to allow my living to open me,

to make me less afraid,

more accessible;

to loosen my heart until it becomes a wing,

a torch, a promise.

I choose to risk my significance,

to live so that which came to me as seed

goes to the next as blossom,

and that which came to me as blossom,

goes on as fruit.

-Dawna Markova

I send this to you...maybe selfish...asking for your help...your time...your attention...your thoughts...your dreams. What might happen if we tell each other our most obvious thoughts? If we share other goodnesses we come across...even books, music, quotes, websites, recipes, or just say hello? This is a dream I had, and I am trying to choose it despite fear.

Hey, this jumping feels good....more like a free fall!

.