Naturally, after thinking about how I need to prioritize my life and home, I realize this morning that what I also need is balance.  I cannot fully exclude anything from my life (as I join yet another Yahoo! Group) if it is indeed nourishing to me in some way.  A day of t.v. and chocolate, after all, reminds me how important a day of gardening and exercise is.

Yet there are so many different levels on which to seek true balance.  Of course there’s the budget and housework versus playtime.  The bigger topics include my time vs. family time, community work vs. home projects, career vs. leisure.  The list goes on.  All themes interconnect.  We aren’t necessarily having to draw a line over which never to cross; rather, we rest on a ball.  A little too far one way or the other might send us crashing down. 

How often have we wondered why there isn’t a manual on how to fill our days?  Sure, there are some books.  Some accept holy texts as instruction manuals, and I can’t help but admire their discipline and devotion.  We all have the free will to see what works for us, and the truth is that what works will be as unique as each of us.  As long as we are striving for balance, there always seems to be a net on either side to help us try again to get on track. 

We’ve all known people, however, who can’t seem to get back on the ball.  Forgiveness may just be our strongest net, not just from others but mostly from ourselves.  If you’re already down, it’s hard to see, hard to realize that there’s something there to help.  I believe that if you look deep enough within yourself, you can connect to a divine source, whatever you believe that to be.  When you look deeply and sense that you can genuinely forgive yourself, feel that you are forgiven, then you’ve connected to a love that helps you up again. 

Hopefully on our next try our priorities will be re-evaluated and a new sense of balance achieved.  Life is so multi-faceted.  We have
choices to make, and our actions reveal who we really are, especially
when we think no one is looking.

After posting about prioritizing your commitments and encouraging you to actually ADD something to your list, I didn’t want you to think I’m being hypocritical.  We should practice what we preach, right?

I have a slew of commitments, but here are some ways I nuture myself.  You can do something for yourself, too!

• For the past few years, I’ve read Simple Abundance.  It’s light and motivational and has other practical, nourishing things you can do.
• Journaling — essential for everyone, especially writers.
• Days outside, especially with the coming spring.  My son and I discovered the crocuses bloomed in what we call our “fairy ring.”  (photo to right actually of our blooming friends) Even when I had pressing deadlines, apparently it was more important for the kids and me to be outdoors.
• Time with other moms.  Support.  Need I say more?
• Pretty accessories.  I don’t have many, but the few I have are beautiful and meaningful.  A pair of earrings my daughter made was added to my collection when I returned from my trip.
• Sacred spaces.  Any place in my home where I spend time is converted to my sacred space.  The kitchen sink, my desk, the bathroom.
• Candles/Incense.  The house smells dingy sometimes, thanks in part to our large indoor dog, but I enjoy beautiful smells and feel better when the house smells better.
• Daily shower.  Even as a mother of four, I take a daily shower as part of my 15-20 minute morning routine.

There are probably other things I do, too.  All together, it sounds like I’m a selfish person, but I don’t do them all at once or all on the same day.

For those of you who are so lovely as to read this, please comment with your ideas for self-care.  Or, contact me if you have problems leaving comments.  We can always use new ideas that don’t involve buying a whole bunch of body products.

Take care of you!!

Easier said than done, no?

I readily agree that a mother’s work is never done.  We rush through the day taking care of the house and pets.  We extend ourselves to the schools, communities and sometimes other careers (for motherhood is its own career).  At the end of the day, once the dishwasher and washing machine are going and the last pair of socks are matched (or not), we drop exhausted onto the bed or couch, whichever is most convenient, not necessarily most desired.  We wonder why our patience falters.

“We can’t love others unless we first love ourselves.”  How can we keep giving genuinely if we let our own generosity well run dry?  We have to give ourselves a break, nourish ourselves and set an example of loving behavior — toward ourselves.  It’s easy, at certain times of the month in particular, to indulge in too many cookies (thanks to the Girl Scouts), get too tired, go too fast and spin our wheels unproductively.  Whereas, if we pause to exercise, write, organize, make a collage — do something! — at least we know we’ve done something revitalizing.

It all goes back to prioritizing.  Is how good I feel when doing something important enough to make time for me?  Is having patience enough to go slowly with the children worth taking a few moments of silence each day?  Yes.  Is overextending myself so that I spend more time away from my family than with them worth it?  This is especially hard when our involvements fall into such good causes.  It’s time for me to evaluate and prioritize my running list.  Each woman’s (and man’s) list will be different, as unique as we are.  It doesn’t matter what our list looks like or how it reads to others.  It does matter how it makes you feel and how it reflects and best encourages your natural rhythm and beauty.  Don’t we all feel better when we have at least some of our ducks in a row?

photo by pikaluk

I don’t intend to short-change anyone, but today’s post is going to be short and sweet.  I have a couple of other deadlines that have to be met today, too, and, well, life is what it is.   

However, last night I had my 9yo daughter look through Kaboose.com (which has a nice history about St. Patrick’s Day) and Family Fun to find a good St. Patty’s Day craft to do.  Leave it to Ol’ Faithful (Family Fun) to have a great idea.  We’ll give this a go, and on Monday I’ll post a picture of our box, where it was hid in the yard (or house, if it’s raining) and the joy of the kiddos finding it.  Fortunately for us, the older kids will be on Spring Break, so it will be “family fun” for all.

the “treasure box”

the youngest on the right track

On the step stones, there were little flower hole punch remnants from green construction paper sprinkled along.  I called these part of the leprechaun trail.  The kids, however, insisted that they were leprechaun poop and after examining them, threw them down in disgust.

Naturally, the older kids take claim for finding the treasure.

Assessing the treasure — cookies and coins for all.

I don’t know how many times I’ve had dreams where I’m in a car and have to make detours, taking the long way around to my destination.  In another dream, I get into a car and have no clue how to drive it because everything seems backwards. 

Like many, I believe that in my car dreams, the car is the vehicle for the ego-self and the road my path representing where I am in life.  What I’ve discovered is that rarely do I take the easy path in life, and quite often I feel completely out of control, unable to guide myself anywhere.

There’s the rub.  Control.  Even standing alone it’s a powerful word.  I don’t recall ever having a dream where I’m in a car and not worrying about which way it’s going.  Do I always have to drive?  Wouldn’t it be nice just to trust my soul, my intuition, divine guidance?

Perhaps I’m just humoring myself into thinking I’m driving my own car.  I tell myself I’m making decisions, but really I haven’t a clue.  I don’t want to put all my eggs in one basket.  But then things start to happen.  Synchronicities fall into place like landmarks telling me I’m on the right path.  You can’t help but feel that the universe wants you to continue forward.  You have the support of the Universe, the ultimate energy that brings life into everything.

Accepting the gift of the Universe, or God, if you will, might mean (and usually does) that you have to let go of the wheel.  You have to trust.  If you close your eyes in fear, you might miss the scenery. 

I’ll trust fully and keep my eyes open.  The colors look more vivid now, and I’m quite certain music fills the air.

Not the most interesting title, but true nonetheless.  I’ve been wanting to do this since I myself got a Venus of Willendorf-inspired bead for my blessingway necklace.  I realize that making the tiny beads is a true talent.  Even making the bigger ones is a skill.  As I’ve just begun, please don’t take my experience as the rule.  Take it as inspiration!  I myself received a beautiful gift of a necklace from my roommate at the CIMS Forum.  She made her beads of polymer clay.  Beautiful is all I can say!  Nope, she’s not selling them, or I’d send you her way!  If you’re looking for ceramic clay beads, this looks like a good artisan site.

What I did:

• Take a small wad of clay

• Roll and smoosh it to get it compact.

• Shape away!  I also used the coil technique 
  to add a little extra to the “belly.”

• I used a tool (above the coil in photo above) to cut the hole through the bead.  Important to remember is that the clay shrinks about 10% when fired.  If you’re using a bead tree, know that your bead needs to fit on the steel rod loosely.  Also, when glazing, I’ll have to make sure to wax resist well so as not to get glaze round the rod/hole.

• I’ll dry these and fire them with the rest of the items.  This will be a first, so I’ll have to update you on the process/results.I’m going to have my childbirth class make some tonight while we’re discussing birth.  It’s always good to engage the senses!

Have fun!

As important as our time in community with supportive others is, our time alone holds answers to questions we may not have realized we had.  With a quiet  environment, we can hear the racket in our minds.  If we sit in the outer quiet long enough, our inner quiet comes.  The “stuff” that clutters our mind hushes gradually like a first grader at the beginning of class.  “What will the lesson be today?”  If we hush and listen patiently, what’s important will reveal itself.

Perhaps our intuition will reveal itself, too, answering those questions we previously thought were beyond our comprehension.  Mind-thinking becomes centered response, a much better and more mindful way of saying “gut reaction.”  The power and wisdom of God is accessible through us, just as it was for Buddha, Jesus and others.  We’re just too busy to pay attention and too caught up in our own agendas to let God’s will be.

The streets are filled with crime, the prisons overcrowded, the drugs too available and the bombs too frequent.  The wails and moans get closer, the burdens too heavy.

The laundry is more dirty than clean, the dishes crowd the counter and hide the sink.  A mass of papers and unopened mail cover the desk.  The kids are sick and the checking account overdrawn.  The refrigerator is bare, and the price of gas just went up again, just in time for the van to need a refill.

Both scenarios are very real, and I venture to say that both are images of hell.  What is hell but an everpresent suffering, seemingly inescapable?  Yet hell can be overcome with a heaping dose of peace grounded in love — or perhaps it is love grounded in peace.  Undoubtedly the two are so intertwined it matters little.  Before the moans become our own and our vision clouded by the fog of negativity, we have to utter words of love, evoke a sense of peace and see the Light present in all.

How many times has great suffering brought about great realizations, great triumphs and understandings?  If you cannot find one example, perhaps you haven’t thought long enough or listened closely enough.  Perhaps you just missed it altogether.  Not to worry.  Just brace yourself since it will come again.

I do not mean to over-simplify.  There is a suffering in the world that I have not and probably cannot fathom.  The genocide in Darfur, the plight of refugees, the millions of homeless and hungry.  I do believe in the power of the collective, though.  One positive thought attracts more, light attracts light, and if we all were to focus and/or pray on peace and contentment, wouldn’t the world be different?

Quite obviously, we all have difficult lessons to learn, obstacles to overcome.  We haven’t learned how to love one another with our whole heart.  Whether at the market or in the home, in our hometown or in a different country, we have to be able to stand for and in peace if we are to improve ourselves, our kids and our humanity.  This is hard; at least, it is when you’re not used to it.  It’s like how they say to frown takes more muscles than to smile.  Really, it takes less energy to love someone than it does to harbor animosity, anger or fear towards them.

It helps to have support, to surround yourselves with others in a unified effort.  It isn’t a bad thing to stand for peace when it seems all hell has broken loose.  You are embodying the change you wish to see.  You cannot force peace with brutality any more than you can clean the house by bringing in more dirt and grime. 

“Be the change you wish to see,” said Gandhi and one of my bumper stickers.  Be the peace you wish to see. Start at home or start in the public.  It may actually be harder to be truly peaceful to those you love most — it was and is for me.  I am a work in progress.  I get my glimpses of hell, feel the suffering and have to remember I can still breathe into the Spirit.  I still have hope, and I can stand for peace here and now.

After realizing that traditional store-bought hot cocoa mixes include partially hydrogenated funk, I set out to perfect my own mix . . . without a cookbook.  So without even a Google search, I think I have managed to make a cocoa like I remember my grandma’s tasting — smooth, warm and yummy.

In an effort to help you feel like you’re finding your own
mix, I’ll suggest this vaguely.

• Cocoa powder (I got the organic variety.) — I used roughly 1 tablespoon
• Sugar (organic) — about twice as much as the cocoa
• Milk (organic), heated — to fill the cup

That’s it.  An organic hot cocoa.  I cheated and used the microwave.  It would be better to just heat the milk on the stove, but the kids were waiting . . . impatiently.

• Fill cup halfway with milk.
• Add cocoa and sugar.  Stir well.
• Fill with milk.  Stir again.

Now, I have yet to find organic marshmallows, and probably for good reason!  But our family is addicted, so we top with the ‘mallows.  We only had the large variety, so I cut them into quarters.  (After watching a child choke on a large one, I second the warning to make sure small children don’t eat them whole.  No one likes to perform the Heimlich!)

This made a darn near perfect cup of cocoa, if I do say so myself.  Now, go fix some for yourself.  You know you want to. 

None of us can deny the fact that we come from a mother, at least a mother’s egg.  Some broaden their family by magnitudes and claim a mother country, while others open even more to say we’re all children of God (some even claim God as Mother).

Personally, I enjoy my relationship with my mom, though we don’t get to see each other often enough.  What’s more, I love learning about her history since it plays such a role in who I am, issues I have to work through — good and bad.  I love hearing about her mother and grandmother.  These women, too, are part of my being.

While I’d love to know more about my family history, I don’t have the time for genealogy.  What I do have are relatives from whom I can learn.  I loved my grandfathers’ stories that all shared a thread of hard work, simple pleasures, risky adventures and wise advice.  My grandmothers’ stories continue to relay a life of experience, how to make the best of what you have, caring for one’s self yet bestowing upon many others unconditional love.  I listen with fascination and wonder if I will have grandchildren someday attentively listening to my stories.  Will I have obstacles overcome with determination and skill?  Will I have adventure?  What lessons will I have to pass on if they are wise enough to ask and to learn through me?  Only time will tell.

We all have mothers to learn from, even if they’re not biological.  Maternal figures in our lives come in more ways than one.  We have much to learn from them even as we go our own ways, and then another generation awaits, looking to us.

When I stand in my utility room, I see not a curtain in the window but my great-aunt’s apron.  For some reason, it gives me strength and comfort the way the sun shines through the thin fabric made even more thread-bare from years of use.  My daughter knows it’s an apron, too.  Perhaps someday she will feel its strength and comfort, but probably not until she’s learned many stories and consciously tapped into the great maternal connection.