All that’s left of last night’s magical family dinner is a heaping bit of ashes in our backyard make-shift fire pit.  Reheated leftovers and fresh canteloupe might not sound magical, but a quick meal for mom is.  Partner that with fading light, newly-mowed yard and crackling fire; you can almost hear the twinkle in the children’s eyes above their giddy laughter and chatter.  To top it all off, we had s’mores.  Yes, even on a school night, and I pretended not to notice how many marshmallows the kids were really eating, though I did close up the bag and keep everything right beside me.  It was a perfect dinner together.

Right now I’m reading a book called The Great Emergence by Phyllis Tickle.  This “Emergent Christianity” talk has a way of getting people talking for sure.  Where I am in the book at the moment, she’s talking about the different points in history that change our perception and understandings of our reality.  At this point, she’s talking about women’s rights, on up to the point now where both parents in the family are working.  Family dinners together are no longer the sacred time they once were.  The family works to pay for the house.  Both parents work to have a sense of personal, social and financial freedom.  The house is a resting place for both parents and the children who are exhausted from a full day at school and/or day care.

I’m not further than that right now, but if, like my kids do in their reading classes, I were to make a prediction, I would say that she’s going to say our next shift has to be from working to the point of exhaustion to working at that which brings us energy, fills us up.  If we work solely to pay the bills, it seems we do sell ourselves out.  We’re draining that which invigorates us, and not only from ourselves but from our families as well.  Our children sense it.  We sensed it from our parents, right?  Precious few of us, and maybe there are actually more than I realize, got to witness our elders doing what they loved.  The work ethic from the Depression to the Consumerism of the 80′s led to the workaholics we know only too well.  But now there’s an employment crisis, partnered with this seeking, this longing.  People wonder what they’re “supposed” to be doing.  Yes, pay the bills, but what’s my “purpose”?

Michele Odent, a renowned OB-GYN, was quoted in The Business of Being Born as saying that, like a traveler who realizes he/she is lost, you have to go back to where you were on the path before you took a wrong turn.  He was talking about midwifery care being the right path, and the alienation of them being the wrong turn.  The analogy works for us, though, too.  Families striving to accumulate material wealth doesn’t cut it anymore.  Yes, both parents or both partners need to work at something.  Both need to feel appreciation, accomplishment, success and a sense of service to others, but it doesn’t always have to be outside the home.  It doesn’t have to be white collar.  It would seem that we are on the brink of realizing that the place of judgement isn’t ours.  We have to work to help each other.  We need to realize that we all have gifts and help each other live into those gifts as fully as possible.  How do we do that?  I haven’t the foggiest, but I’m sure my children will be part of a generation that learns to live that way.  I do hope so.

I’m curious to see what Tickle says about our current era, where she sees us going and how.  I know it seems like my husband and I have a rather traditional relationship; it works for us for him to work and me do what I consider my work from home or through church.  But now he’s out of the corporate realm.  We share home tasks.  We’re showing our kids what a partnership is like.  We also revel in the blessing of extended family.  Hopefully we’ve been able to keep the right things on our path as we’re moving forward and find that which keeps us invigorated.

The only thing that would have made last night even more perfect would have been if dearest and I had had enough energy after getting the kids to bed to go back out by the fire and watch the coals burn down, just the two of us on the quilt, wrapped up together in my shawl.  Maybe next time.

There’s “spring cleaning,” and I figure what I’m going through now is “fall clearing” — when it’s time to clear the clutter, make some organizational shifts, and make sure my priorities are in line before the long nights of winter set in. (It only seems far off; we know how time gets away from us.)  Honestly, the coming fall fills me with as much excitement as spring, just in a different way.

The days have just been hot enough to make you sweat, and many nights have been cool enough to cut the a/c and open the windows.  I sense a pull to what is natural, intuitive.  I’m making decisions based on a gut feeling, and great things are happening, however seemingly small they might be.

All this is related in that by clearing out some of the stuff that’s filling my days, my house, my mind, I am making room for quiet, for creativity, for Divine energy to move about and through me.  I love being aware of the synchronicities as they unfold, and I love having time to participate in them.  I offer unbounded thanks to those who are able and willing to participate with me.

This morning, after daddy took the older children to school, I was clearing the breakfast table (from a yummy feast of omelets and potato cakes).  Table clear, dog having eaten the leftovers, I gathered up the compost.  The youngest had been going in and out the back door, revelling in her ability to open and close the sliding glass door, talking in her suddenly realized vocabulary about the cat and dog being in and out, out and in.  I watched her through the window when she was outside making a barricade of her body so the cat couldn’t go any further.  Of course, the cat just walked around her.  Suddenly, she ran inside to get a “tiny bowl.” “Mommy come?” she asked.  I slipped on my shoes and grabbed the compost.  It was time again to get a little raspberry snack.  I dumped my bowl of scraps and grounds and then searched with childlike enthusiasm for the dark red treats, wondering why I had ever worried about the birds and the bugs getting them all.  We have to share.  With our snack-sized bounty, we turned to the house.  Behind the glass door, I saw my husband smiling, coffee in hand, and I relished the moment when our little one realized her daddy was back home.

It truly is the little moments that make life rich, even if we tend only to remember the big events.  As I continue my late summer and early fall clearing, I hope to continue to embrace the time given to do what need be done but also be who and where I need to be.  I wish no less for you, with love.

The anticipation in my oldest child leading up to the first day of school nearly pushed me over the edge.  I was ready to trash the school supplies and send her to school with a piece of paper and a pencil.

The second child got stung by a wasp the night before school started and still has residual swimmer’s ear (which will probably lead to a doctor’s appointment soon).  This probably attributed toward his emotional instability before and after his first day at school.

Our third and wild child who started kindegarten this year seems to be doing the best of all — at least outside the classroom.  Could it be that our seemingly most troublesome child is actually the healthiest?  He has consistent behavior and seems to be going with the flow.

Our fourth child informed me she wanted to go to school, too, yesterday.   However, this morning, after being awakened at 7am, she’s not so keen on the early morning school thing.  She’s still in her jammies after 9.

I share all this not only to document my children’s first day of school but also to comment on the different perspectives we take in life.  I remember the excitement, the anxiety, the anticipation not only of first days but of first kisses, first love, first home, first birth.  I hope to experience many more firsts.

Onward now in my spiritual journey and life in general, I realize that part of living life to the fullest is to experience every moment as a first, to bring the childlike enthusiasm to the moment — a beginner’s mind.  I am so quick to make things routine, anxious to make it a habit so that I don’t have to think about it.  There’s nothing wrong with making something healthy a habit, but only if I can do so with awareness and an open mind.

So now I get to practice.  Bring the enthusiasm of the first day of school (that helped me get up at 5:40 am) into every morning.  To make breakfast and help prepare lunches with a happy heart, blessing the food that it might nourish my beautiful, brilliant children.  And then I can move onto practicing in other moments, as if they were the first or might be the last.

“Today is the first rainy day” at my new school, my daughter told us this morning.  Oh, that I might appreciate this day as such.

photo: everystockphoto.com by bies — no, not my child because the only picture i took was on my phone!

It’s about that time.  The school supplies are purchased.  The laundry is clean.  Summer vacation is wrapped up in memories as early bedtime has resumed.   The kids are sleeping soundly, though I’m sure the anxiety for the first day of school (coming on Wednesday) is coursing through their veins.

I am quite certain I’m not the only mom feeling frazzled.   These last couple of weeks of vacation, I did put my best foot forward to give the kids some last hurrahs to go back to school with some stories.  (How many third grade boys jumped from a bluff into the river last week?)  But the concentrated effort has taken its toll, and my to-do list has grown so long that I dare not look at it all at once.  Talking with a friend, we realize how family-focused we’ve been.

As good as it is to put the family first, there are some of us who receive boosts of energy when we are tapped into a higher power, a greater source of creative energy.  How else would we be able to do all that we do?  I wondered why people thought I was a supermom, but now I’ve realized that I take for granted the strength, the seeming reserve of energy, that comes from doing what we are truly called to do.  When we tap into our “vein of gold,” we are energized to continue our good works, and this inevitably spills into other areas of our life.  When we focus on all of our practical responsibilities that come with daily life without tapping into this wellspring of creative energy, we quickly realize that it is quite impossible to do it all on our own.  At least, that’s how I feel, and after doing too much too long alone, we usually get physically struck down.  (Cue migraine.)

So, as routines change up again and we all find ourselves settling into new fall rhythms, I hope to keep the door to creative outlets open and pass through often enough to be invigorated with that Divine creative energy, bringing it into other areas of my life as well.  Lord knows the only limits are those I impose upon myself, and it’s fully within my means to get my life back in order, trying as ever to restore a sense of balance.

Is it mere coincidence that when I water the garden and plants with water from the rain barrel, it rains?  Yesterday we were blessed with a delightful summer storm . . . delightful if you don’t think too badly of the hail accompanying it.  When I think that my barrel will surely dry up, it gets refilled.

In our household, we’re in the last two weeks of summer vacation.  Tension is high, and add to that a full moon this weekend.  My best intentions for this summer, as ever, remain just that — intentions.  But I don’t think the children have been too deprived.  Their white bottoms and tanned appendages affirm plenty of time in the water.  There’s been a summer camp for the older kids and plenty of playdates for the younger ones.  A couple of hikes and plenty of late nights (and more movies than I care to admit, though I will admit to the drive-in!).  Now, however, it’s time to start transitioning to earlier bed times, morning risings and a tighter budget.

With so many expectations past and present, we need a good dose of assurance that our time has been and is well-spent.  The coming consistencies and seeming restraints are welcome, however hard they may seem.  It’s nice to know that when we least expect it yet when we need it most, we’ll be blessed with what we need and probably even more, as is usually the case.  And it never fails that when I think surely I can’t make it through another day with an ounce of sanity left, I get a respite and/or find the calm in the storm.  I must remember, too, that sometimes it is my responsibility to fill the well of  patience, to feed the creativity.  (Hence, the current knitting/felting project.)

May we all remember to keep our barrels full but not stagnant, to keep the stream of Light and Love ever-flowing through our lives.