Slowing

I saw an old leather-bound journal in my office the other day. It was one I had gotten from Barnes & Noble several years ago with a dyed and stamped, striped leather cover that I know reached out to one of those artsy tendencies in me. I thumbed through it again and discovered that it was mostly unused. I’d only written in a fraction of the pages.

I was thinking about that journal, and about the process of writing words. As I sit writing this post, I’m using my iPad and an app called Chronicle. It’s my diary these days — my journal. I use it to record my thoughts, compose them and refine them. It’s a process I once used my bound journals for.

My digital life has made many things more convenient, even many things more possible. But, I also wonder if I’m loosing something in tapping keys and touch points rather than moving ink along a page. I type faster than I write. It’s why I started journalling on a computer to begin with, and there is some value in using a tool that allows me to record thoughts quickly. But, there is also value in using a tool that slows my thoughts and ideas and memories long enough for me to capture them — to absorb and experience and embrace them. It gives me time to ponder, to synthesize, to form opinions, to take stands.

It’s the same with the experiences or moments my words are meant to expose and evaluate.

Embracing experiences is a special skill. It requires engaging the senses. Engaging the mind. Engaging myself with others around me. Slowing the process of thinking and processing to absorb the nuances — much like the process of writing by hand in that journal. Slowing the need to move to the next thing. To remain in the present long enough to enjoy it, absorb it, reflect on it. Or, maybe the reflection comes later. Maybe you have to remain in the moment long enough to let it’s uniqueness make an impact — an imprint on your experience. An imprint that you can later touch and feel with your spirit. And draw conclusions from. That doesn’t happen when moments are glossed over or rushed past.

I’m finding that I’m in need of slowing, of retraining myself to soak in, absorb and speak. After so often slipping into the habit of glossing over situations, of hurrying from one thought to the next, I’m re-learning how to discern my own opinions and impressions of an experience, be it a conversation, something I see or hear, or the actions of others. I’m relearning to expose myself to the things that really interest me, to define for myself what experiences are valuable and holding them long enough in my mind to glean all they have to offer my spirit.

I’m beginning a week or so of time away from home, visiting my parents for the holidays. Although I’m not sure three excited children running through the house in search of the full Christmas experience really qualifies as “slow’” but I’m looking at is as an opportunity to practice slowing. To focus my attention on these few simple treasures as I seek to define where I really want to focus my broader attention in 2012.

One Life

Well, we finished up the Thanksgiving holidays. Little Drummer Boy’s Fall break at school was the catalyst for some time away from home. A change of scenery is usually good for a change of perspective, too. Plus, the fresh air and clear skies of the family farmland doesn’t hurt either. I’m always amazed at how much clearer things sound when you’re surrounded by pasture and how much crisper the light is when there isn’t the competition of street lights.

Thanksgiving and my 12 days of posting was a worthwhile experience. As it always is. Looking back through some of the posts, I can easily see how valuable it is to focus my attention on blessings — to consciously look for and recognize the elements of life that bring me joy. Recognizing that joy helps me focus my attention. Through the last 12 days I’ve realized once again how important it is to take responsibility for defining my own life of joy and bringing that life into clearer focus by setting my own priorities.

I have one life. I have to make that real. In fact, I’m the only one who can make it real. And let’s face it; a life lived in pursuit of someone else’s dream is just pretending. It’s a waste.

If I am to make this one life one of meaning, it is imperative that I hear the clear ping of my own heart telling me what is important — what is required to make that life real and valuable. It is imperative that I maintain a crisp view rather than a hazy picture of what that life should be. And that takes discipline and soul-searching and some hard choices. But it’s worth it if I want to have the assurance that I spent my life living rather than waiting to live it. Hoping to live it. Thinking about living it. Imagining living it.

So, I’ve been thinking. What are the shadow areas of my life? What are the areas where I am content with the mere outlines and silhouettes of the real thing? Life goals and themes change over time. Once again, it’s time to decide. What do I want my life to be? What do I want my children to see or expect when they prepare to live their lives?

Tough questions. Ones that are not always easily answered. More challenging still, at times, are the choices required to follow through with making my answers materialize. It requires courage and resolve and a clear understanding that this life — my life — is worth it.

We can choose to exist. To simply subsist. But that isn’t enough for me. I don’t want to poorly invest the one life with which I’m blessed. So, I must define my own terms for it. And dare to reject anything that pulls me away from that true life. Anything that clouds the picture of a life lived to its fullest.

The Tree and the List

12 Days of Thanksgiving: DAY ELEVEN

A couple of years ago I did a “Thanksgiving Tree” activity with my kids as a way to begin teaching them about gratitude. It was something I used to encourage them to think about what mattered to them, from toys and movies to school activities and things they were learning. We wrote them down and hung them on a branch tree we found and decorated. When Little Drummer Boy had the idea for us to spend Thanksgiving at the farm this year, I thought it might be a good time to begin the tradition again.

I brought some art supplies on our trip — things like fancy decorative tape, funky paper clips, scraps of colored construction paper, markers and scissors. On Monday, we took our first walk down the gravel road and searched down our “tree.” It was a small dried limb that had fallen and still contained several branches. This afternoon, we finally scotched it with gravel in an old earthenware pitcher and went to work on our three-dimensional list.

The kids cut shapes, punched holes and chose tape or paperclips as hangers. It took them a few minutes to get into the groove of thinking of things they were thankful for, but they soon caught on. I wrote them down on their specially crafted “ornaments” and outfitted the branches. Baby Girl began with “orange” and moved on to the “iPad” and her “friends at school.” Bug was thankful for “the farm” and all his birthday “presents.” With a smile, LDB decided he was thankful for “Mommy,” among other things. We’ll do more tomorrow and probably each day for the rest of our stay, and I hope it will help them to think of the Thanksgiving holiday in their own terms.

It’s such a joy for me to have a small glimpse of their hearts and minds as they shared things they wanted to add to the tree today. To see them articulate things they love and are grateful to have in their lives. Enumerating our blessings may start slowly, but it usually ends with an overflow of ideas. I can’t have a bonafide Thanksgiving posting series without my own requisite list. It’s funny how once you begin articulating a blessing, more and more reveal themselves until we are convinced without a doubt that we are blessed beyond measure — the power of Thanksgiving at work.

So let the List begin…

Little Drummer Boy > Bug > Baby Girl > This year’s project load at Small Pond Graphics > afternoon naps > rainy afternoons with nothing to do > the blessing of good health > laughter > squeals and giggles rather than squabbles from the next room > 5 days off from school and work > the freedom to make that choice > the farm > and incorporating it into the lives and hearts of my kids > iPads > the amazing ability of my 3yo to learn now to use one > fresh air > pecan pie > conversations with old friends > tangible reminders > unfailing encouragers > watching Baby Girl exploring girl things > the ability to do what I love > wise advice > invested time > caregivers and teachers my children love > faithful parents > Bug’s enthusiasm > LDB’s tender heart > hearing “I love you, Mommy” randomly > baby steps > progress > the privilege of seeing another person’s heart > my home office > the confidence of my clients > the freedom to read and search and know > the ability to provide for my babies > faith through tough situations > seeing joy in simple things > gift cards > days spent forgetting about the clock > imaginations at work > good books > technology that connects us > memories > the wonder and responsibility of being a mommy > a brilliant sunset > bedtime stories > inquisitive hearts > Avengers who always defeat the bad guys > a table richly spread > the commitment to go the extra mile > warm clothing > kind words and learning to say them > understanding how wealthy I am > the opportunity to say thank you…

One lesson I’ve been reminded of each year in this now 4-year tradition is that the List is best kept daily. Not yearly. In fact, it’s best kept moment by moment, recognizing all the small things that add up to a big, wide, deep life filled with blessing. For life is invariably filled with blessing.

Sparkle

12 Days of Thanksgiving: DAY FOUR

Boy, I woke up crabby this morning. It happens to the best of us, and this morning was mine. This whole week, really. I mentioned at the beginning of the week that I’m running on empty. I am, and I think the tiredness, hectic schedule and constant brain motion are starting to leak.

This morning, everyone was moving too slow. Everyone was too loud. Or too quiet. Everyone was was getting their pants dirty or their crumbs on the floor. You’ll notice that none of the MOMMY’s actions were highlighted in this scenario. Yes, I tried to temper my language and my tone, and not many of those indictments actually left my mouth. Still, my thoughts were filled with total crabbiness — impatience, fatigue and annoyance all balled into one bad attitude. To top it off, it was raining. Rain in the morning means I get wet several times while shuffling the gang to their respective school rooms before I even get a chance to sit down for work.

Get out the horns and confetti, I was scheduling a pity party!

Then, it happened. As it always does. One of those sweet little ones I call my own says something that completely takes me off guard. A statement that lets me question who’s really teaching who in this whole parenting thing. This time is was Bug.

“The sky is sparkling!”

I was buckling him into his booster seat to go to preschool. He was talking about this and that. (Bug always has a tall tale brewing.) Then he stopped mid-sentence and came out with “the sky is sparkling.”

The sky I was looking at was dappled with clouds and raindrops. It was sluggish at best with only a hint there might be sunshine somewhere in the forecast. For him, it was sparkling! It made me smile. It made me shake my head. At myself. It made me giggle. And stop. Overwhelmed by the sheer amazing experience of knowing these three little hearts. It made me tell him, “I think YOU are sparkling!” That gave him a turn to giggle. And give me that look like “mommies say the darnedest things.”

Consider my view shifted. This life is filled with sparkle. If I’m willing to see it. To be blinded by it.

Guess what? Life happens. To everyone. Lack of sleep, crabbiness and all. It happens. Thank God. Way too many projects scheduled for work today. Too few hours of sleep. The pressure to fit everything in. Kid programs and parties and special lunches all requiring my attention. A brain filled with so many details I’m certain it will burst and lose them all. All that busy-ness. Each moment seemingly filled with something. But it’s filled! It’s evidence of fullness. Of blessing. Of the the incredible value of each child (and client) requiring my attention. It is blessing. If I choose to see it as such. If I choose to be blinded by it.

We all have a saturation point. We all have the burden of ensuring that our own commitments reflect the value we really want to glean in life. But, today I’m thankful for the reminder that busy-ness is reflective of blessing. This busy-ness comes from an effort to give everything I can to make these experiences meaningful. To go the extra mile to be there. To be present and accounted for in this quickly fleeting season. And as I weed through a list of tasks and commitments that perhaps can’t all be done, this reminder gives me the ammunition I need to choose. To determine what will sow the most blessing. The most sparkle.

Turkeys, To Dos and Perspective

12 Days of Thanksgiving: DAY THREE

The Program was today. I just spent some time at Bug and Baby Girl’s preschool for the annual Thanksgiving Program and lunch. It was fun times with a cute little turkey and a very handsome pilgrim. We brought our own turkeys made out of Oreos and a plate of cheese slices to contribute to the sandwiches of the crowd. They smiled and waved. They sang. They clapped and touched their head, shoulders, knees and toes. They were happy. And they knew it. It was all the unexpected silliness you would expect from a preschool program.

It took two hours of what was an already busy day if you include the assembling of the cheese plate and the gas that had to be purchased before I could get the van home. I walked back into my office to a piled up desk and an iPad app full of tasks waiting to be checked off. Still, although I may feel a little stretched with this week’s schedule, I just know those were two of the best hours I could spend today.

Yes, I received all the standard reminders of Thanksgiving at The Program. The blessing of the holiday. The food we could partake. The sweet faces and infectious smiles. But this year I was also reminded of what a blessing it is for me to have the freedom to do all the things that seem to be required of Mommies during the holidays.

A year and a half ago when I learned that the company I had worked with for 16 years would be closing, that freedom wasn’t on my radar. I didn’t really have a moment of panic then (I think that came later), but it did seem like a setback. Some limitation (what felt like another limitation) I would need to scrape through. A financial strain. An emotional strain. A colossal change in my normal.

As it turned out, I really didn’t have much time to ponder the limitations. In the same breath she told me she was retiring, my boss/friend/mentor said “you need to start your own design business.” And she proceeded to articulate several ways she thought I would succeed. Wow! It was a new thought to me. The short story is that I did just that, and I was right. It WAS a colossal change in my norm — a change I am now so grateful is my new normal.

Although I could barely imagine it at the time, this experiment of a new business and the decision to work from my home has been a Godsend. It’s given me the opportunity to be that Mom I wanted to be. I wanted to be the Mom who could go on the field trip or organize the party or knock off the afternoon early for snow cones. I’ve also come to enjoy the freedom to cultivate my own mix of design services, consulting strategies and writing skills I can offer to clients. I relish the chance to hone my own commitments into those that most closely resemble my ideal. I love making the determination to give away my time to some of the clients if I feel it’s right. And when it comes right down to the bottom line, I’m so grateful for this chance to provide for my kids in a way I probably wouldn’t have been able to in my previous work situation.

As I look around this office I’ve organized and adorned with design books, color chips, kid drawings and throw pillows, I find that I wouldn’t have my normal any other way. What a blessing to be able to spend my days enjoying tasks and the place I have to do them! What a blessing to be able to lay them aside for two hours to devote that time to what matches with my own priorities — my only responsibility and accountability being the things that matter most to me in work and life. Life is too short to settle for less than that.

Today, full on kid songs and Oreos and burgeoning project tasks, I’m so thankful for the realization that what seemed like a step backward actually brought me right were I want to be. Funny how that happens.