4th Day of Thanksgiving: 10:03pm

10:03pm

For those of you who may not be privy to the secret inner world of Wordpress Dude, the EyeJunkie posts don’t always come hot off the keyboard just as the thoughts spring from my brain. No, sometimes I actually schedule them ahead. [shock!] Sometimes I let them sit in my digital diary for weeks or months, adding a sentence or two here and there until they’ve adequately germinated. Sometimes they sit in the draft queue for a while waiting on me to hit the “publish” button. Sometimes they hang out in my hand-written title brainstorm list for an inordinate amount of time while I make room on the priority list. Sometimes Wordpress Dude’s auto save function presses happily on while I scoot over to dictionary.com to find out the correct spelling of a word or while I answer one of the 4yo, 3yo or 1yo questions that come my way. If I’m really honest, sometimes when I say “last night” it was actually a few nights ago, or maybe a few months ago. Life’s just like that. Although the blogging medium is usually a little more transparent than some, Wordpress Dude still offers a modicum of subterfuge tactics. It’s kind of like learning that President Obama wasn’t really the one writing all those tweets. Just as obvious, only with a MUCH smaller audience. For the three of my kind readers to whom it wasn’t obvious, I can only say… Pay no attention to the gal behind the curtain.

I think I may have taken this intro a little further than necessary.

10:16pm

I say all that to say this… This post is coming off the keyboard in real time. It’s a little odd even for me, but I needed a little self-intervention. You see, I’ve been struggling all day with coming up with some idea (any idea) for what to write about giving thanks. The fact is, I’m just about “give out,” as they say in my best Southern. It’s been a frustrating week so far with few thanksgiving fuzzies. I feel like I’m giving out in so many areas–being a wife, a mother, a cook, a home-keeper, a “creative”, a designer, a blogger, a social media strategist, a writer–and there’s not enough coming back in at the moment. Likely, I’ve stretched my creativity too thin, which happens periodically, but the bottom line is that thanksgiving is not really part of the equation right now.

I’ve been frustrated. I’ve been irritated. I’ve been tired. I’ve been a complainer and even a whiner. I’ve been ripe for ranting about something, anything. [Aside: I fed the rant habit with a little ditty I'll post tomorrow] I had to ask Little Drummer Boy’s forgiveness today. I had to try two gas pumps before the credit card machine would work. While staring aimlessly ahead as I pumped away $35, I read “container” as “cantankerous” on the petroleum warnings. Enough said.

10:26pm

So, I’m going uncensored this evening in an attempt to sharply correct my attitude. And to add a shot of reality into this 12 Days of Thanksgiving thing. I just don’t feel like being grateful. I can’t find my gratitude inspiration. It’s Day 4. What can I glean about giving thanks from this predicament.

Here’s something that’s as good as any… Thanksgiving is my choice. There I said it. If thanksgiving is my choice, then being a whiner is my choice too. Ouch. It’s a painful reality. It’s not that I don’t have something to be thankful for or that there is nothing in my life to inspire my gratitude. The problem is that I’m choosing to focus my attention in the wrong direction. It’s my choice.

So, here goes. With you as my witness, I’m turning the corner, turning the page, whatever. It’s time to rethink my choice. I’m going to spend the next 15 minutes writing things I’m thankful for. And, I don’t mean a list of stuff I like. I mean things that have added blessing and value to my life just in the last few days. Ready, go.

10:35pm

Old friends that have unintentionally encouraged me to get real — A work acquaintance who responded to a request I thought was overlooked in such an incredibly generous, humble and transparent way — The ability to write what I think and feel in this amazing forum and have other people actually read it — The sweet voice of Bug as he sings his lullaby with me, and keeping my voice as soft as humanly possible so I could hear — Obys takeout on a busy day — Having the opportunity to speak for Dux D’Lux in online media, a great and challenging responsibility — A job that has continued to challenge me for 15 years, where I’ve continued to learn and grow creatively — Our first really crisp day — A glowing orange cable-knit v-neck sweater for $14.99 (I’m a girl, and it’s basic, folks) — The internet, what unprecedented access to ideas and opinions from everywhere all at once — The screaming from my hallway and realizing it’s the glee of truck races and giggles rather than arguments — A few days of full-time work for Quiver and the hope that it will continue — Baby Girl has not been pulling on her ear in the last few days and early evening naps have made her a happy camper — The artistic vision of Walter Anderson — Relatively smooth mornings and safe travel as I’ve handled getting all three gifts dressed and to preschool by myself this week — The anticipation of getting to have lunch with Little Drummer Boy on Friday — The fact that my gifts love going to their school — The act of forgiveness, giving and receiving it — Rat poison to stop that incessant scratching during these first cold days (sorry, had to go there because it’s distracting me) — The joy that comes from learning from others — The opportunity to give grace where it’s due and where it isn’t –

10:50pm

Ok. The choice is a no-brainer.

Monday Music

This piece from the American Life in Poetry series crossed my Inbox at just the right time today. I had high hopes for the weekend, but found my worst enemy right there in the mirror. I spent the two days scurrying and worrying about this, disgruntled and complaining about that.  I feel I missed the opportunity to really wade in to what matters–to the lights of my life, to the joys of my life, to what inspires the best of my creativity. Today I’m listening to my own gifts’ example. Today I’m hearing the music anew. Today is a day to drink in deeply.

American Life in Poetry: Column 239
BY TED KOOSER, U.S. POET LAUREATE, 2004-2006

It’s likely that if you found the original handwritten manuscript of T. S. Eliot’s groundbreaking poem, “The Waste Land,” you wouldn’t be able to trade it for a candy bar at the Quick Shop on your corner. Here’s a poem by David Lee Garrison of Ohio about how unsuccessfully classical music fits into a subway.

Bach in the DC Subway

As an experiment,
The Washington Post
asked a concert violinist—
wearing jeans, tennis shoes,
and a baseball cap—
to stand near a trash can
at rush hour in the subway
and play Bach
on a Stradivarius.
Partita No. 2 in D Minor
called out to commuters
like an ocean to waves,
sang to the station
about why we should bother
to live.

A thousand people
streamed by. Seven of them
paused for a minute or so
and thirty-two dollars floated
into the open violin case.
A café hostess who drifted
over to the open door
each time she was free
said later that Bach
gave her peace,
and all the children,
all of them,
waded into the music
as if it were water,
listening until they had to be
rescued by parents
who had somewhere else to go.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska, Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2008 by David Lee Garrison, whose most recent book of poems is Sweeping the Cemetery: New and Selected Poems, Browser Books Publishing, 2007. Poem reprinted from Rattle, Vol. 14, No. 2, Winter 2008, by permission of David Lee Garrison and the publisher. Introduction copyright © 2009 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction’s author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006. We do not accept unsolicited manuscripts.

Thurs Thirty: You Got Jipped

Purchase Peace of Mind: Save 60% Today

I saw it right there in my Inbox. Talk about your deal of the century. With roadside assistance included! Who knew? Granted it was from Mr. Car Warranty with his tow package, but the concept intrigued me.

Hmmm. Peace of mind on sale. Exactly what is full price? Are there any upcharges? Do I really want a bargain peace of mind, one that’s discounted? We value peace of mind. Yet, we are sometimes far off the mark in how to get it. We look for the elaborate scheme, the self-help model, the paradigm shift, the seven steps, the subscription or the prescription–anything to teach us, train us, coerce us, trick us into keeping our mind at peace. This brand is way overpriced.

Peace of mind is there for the taking, if I’ll just take the step to put it in my buggy. Free. No receipt required. Of course, peace of mind usually requires presence of mind–the presence of mind to live the moment that is happening now, to take advantage of what’s right in front of me, to consciously make the decisions that bring peace–all around me. Those daily heart-choices help me line up with the person I know I was born to be, and help me see beyond myself and store up for the moment beyond this one. Need some examples?

Since I’ve skipped Tuesday Ten for the past few weeks, I decided an upsized Thursday Thirty bonus edition of my list-making penchant was in order–this time featuring the “You got jipped, even at 60% off since you can get it for FREE” Peace of Mind special edition. That’s right. If you lined up to pay 60% off in the peace of mind red tag special, you got schnookered.

I find that just one of these FREE peace of mind boosting actions ups my heart and mind coverage every time. The complimentary tow package just drives the worried dissatisfaction right out of me. In 30+ flavors!

Try one for yourself–FREE! Just be sure you read the fine print.

1. Forgive somebody.

2. Smile when you speak.

3. Cozy up to the One in charge.

4. Sharpen your ax.

5. Give approval.

6. Think before you speak.

7. Hug your child.

8. Say “I love you.”

9. Put your time where your heart is.

10. Put your money where you heart is.

11. Figure out where your heart is.

12. Give yourself completely to what you’re doing at the moment.

13. Stop multi-tasking.

14. Take the winding path with your eyes open.

15. Speak when spoken to.

16. Tuck someone in bed.

17. Send a letter by snail mail. (ok, that one’s not quite free, but cheaper than a Coke)

18. Finish what you started.

19. Give a compliment.

20. Offer a compromise.

21. Stop.

22. Use kind words.

23. Speak softly.

24. Make a promise and keep it.

25. Say “no” to something you don’t enjoy.

26. Clean your room.

27. Laugh at yourself.

28. Say “thank you.”

29. Work hard.

30. Then, rest.

Offer may require everything you have, no credit, absolute lack of control, forgetting the need to be right, losing yourself, giving up, giving in, standing firm, holding out, dropping the ball, or going to the back of the line. Giving comes before getting.

Gift Tag: Sing!

It’s hard to muster up a song sometimes. The tiredness of the day, the busyness of the schedule and the frustration of the combination sometimes just sucks the song right out of me. Then, I hear the simple, sweetly spoken request. “Sing!”

Our nightly bedtime ritual includes a beloved lullaby CD that I made for Little Drummer Boy and Bug from iTunes downloads several years ago. The CD is worn and the sound is crackly from use. The songs are so familiar that any time we hear them on the radio, a chorus of “our bedtime song!” follows in unison. Each night as each boy takes his turn reading with Mommy, then climbing in bed, I cover them with blankets, rub their backs and start the music. Invariably on the weariest nights, the nights when supper was late on the table and baths took longer than expected, the ones when I’ve been the most impatient or the most haggard, I hear it. “Sing!”

It’s hard for an impatient heart to sing a song of peace. It’s hard for a hurried heart to sing a song of rest. It’s hard for a heart screaming with a million and one distractions to sing a quiet song. Still, in this heart of indulgence toward my precious gifts, I try. I sing. “Come to Jesus. Come to Jesus. And live.”

Something happens when I ignore the resistance amid yawns. When I lay aside the fatigue and the irritability and offer the frequently off-key and misregistered melody of “yes” to my little ones, I find that my heart actually opens to believing the lyrics anew, to embracing the words I impart. And in my spirit, I say “yes.” I sing.

Sometimes God allows me a special blessing akin to the one He enjoys from His children. Every now and then my gifts sing along–their minds following and anticipating, but only able to release the last words of each line. Often the only word they sing clearly is “Jesus.” Their tender hearts, unstained by cynicism and self-consciousness, sing out to Him. Ever open, all that they are calls out to all that they know of Him. In that moment, unhidden, it’s His name. In song.

And in that moment, opened by their openness, I find that I sing. Broken down and revealed, in desperate restlessness, pronouncing peace, I sing. To these gifts. To this God of all seasons, of all days. And, all that I can know of my heart calls out to all that I recognize of Him–summarized. In His name.

I sing.

Untitled Hymn by Chris Rice (our personal favorite)

Weak and wounded sinner
Lost and left to die
O, raise your head, for love is passing by
Come to Jesus
Come to Jesus
Come to Jesus and live!

Now your burden’s lifted
And carried far away
And precious blood has washed away the stain, so
Sing to Jesus
Sing to Jesus
Sing to Jesus and live!

And like a newborn baby
Don’t be afraid to crawl
And remember when you walk
Sometimes we fall…so
Fall on Jesus
Fall on Jesus
Fall on Jesus and live!

Sometimes the way is lonely
And steep and filled with pain
So if your sky is dark and pours the rain, then
Cry to Jesus
Cry to Jesus
Cry to Jesus and live!

O, and when the love spills over
And music fills the night
And when you can’t contain your joy inside, then
Dance for Jesus
Dance for Jesus
Dance for Jesus and live!

And with your final heartbeat
Kiss the world goodbye
Then go in peace, and laugh on Glory’s side, and
Fly to Jesus
Fly to Jesus
Fly to Jesus and live!

Gift Tags are the tiny messages God continues to include with our gifts — 2 little joys of boys and 1 little jewel of a girl, each with open eyes, open ears, open hearts, and much to teach. “Behold children are a gift of the Lord…” (psalm 127:1)

Tues Ten 082509: Slow Things

I’m exercising a bit of economy today with this post because I’ve just finished the most profound article I think I’ve read in a while. Something I saw on Twitter yesterday prompted me to begin my original Tuesday Ten post as a semi-rant on things I hate reading in 140 characters or less. Actually, they were just things I hate reading, only made more annoying by their dumbed down, misspelled, or speed edited 140-character summaries. The headliner? Trashing your kids or your husband to your 1,637 followers! Holy Badmovimous, Twatman! If you can’t say something nice…

Of course, I was faced with a conundrum because to write the Tuesday Ten post that leaped from my Tweetdeck screen would mean violating one of my own personal social media rules: It may be sarcastic or annoyed. It may be fed up or fatigued. But, in the end, it better be positive. Ix-Nay on the post about Itter-Tway.

Then, I read this article from the August 22 Wall Street Journal by John Freeman (actually found from a link on… Twitter). The poignant sound of Mr. Freeman’s name–Free. Man.– was not lost on me as I read “Not So Fast”, his treatise on the value of slow communication. He certainly seems free from the “Tyranny of Email”, the apparent title of his upcoming book related to the article.

So, for economy’s sake, I decided to write today’s post as a Tuesday Ten and Most Interesting Phrase Paragraph of the Week (MIPOTW) all rolled into one. How very efficient of writer Haley.

Mr. Freeman’s absolutely on-target thoughts about the drawbacks of the hyper-communicative world we’ve created made me want to sit down for a moment. Hopped up on bandwidth with 140 (or so) characters at our disposal and a thousand “Joe Bloes” listening, we’ve become so enamored of the outflux of information that we are less mindful of what we’re really saying–and even less attentive to what really matters. Is that progress?

In an article full of interesting phrases and paragraphs and concepts, Mr. Freeman’s idictment of the internet is that:

“It has encouraged flotillas of unnecessary jabbering, making it difficult to tell signal from noise. It has made it more difficult to read slowly and enjoy it, hastening the already declining rates of literacy. It has made it harder to listen and mean it, to be idle and not fidget.”

His recommendation? Spend more time in the slow lane.

“If the technology is to be used for the betterment of human life, we must reassert that the Internet and its virtual information space is not a world unto itself but a supplement to our existing world…

Given that our days are limited, our hours precious, we have to decide what we want to do, what we want to say, what and who we care about, and how we want to allocate our time to these things within the limits that do not and cannot change. In short, we need to slow down.”

With that in mind, I give you a new and improved, more progressive Tuesday Ten: Ten [wonderfully slower than dial-up] Things I’ll never get from the internet.

1. A spit-kiss from a preschool boy

2. A glistening glass of sweetened, iced tea

3. Crumbs on my shirt from the warm sweet roll I just baked

4. The smell of a library book

5. An early Fall breeze

6. Freshly folded clean clothes

7. Sweaty, dirt-filled giggly faces in need of a wet washcloth

8. Conversation with chocolate sprinkles on top

9. The chance to hold the hand of the one I’m listening to

10. Baby Girl’s first steps accompanied brothers’ cheers.