Dear Reader:

I just now read the sweetest poem.    Here it is:

Talking about the Day

Each night after reading three books to my two children -
we each picked one - to unwind them into dreamland,
I'd turn off the light and sit between their beds
in the wide junk shop rocker I'd reupholstered blue,
still feeling the close-reading warmth of their bodies beside me,
and ask them to talk about the day - we did this,
we did that - sometimes leading somewhere, sometimes
not, but always ending up at the happy ending of now.
Now, in still darkness, listening to their breath slow and ease
into sleep's regular rhythm.
                                              They are grown, you might have guessed.
The past tense solid, unyielding, against the dropped bombs
of recent years.  But how it calmed us then, rewinding
the gentle loop, and in the trusting darkness, pressing play.

----Jim Daniels


This is a poem about mindfulness, isn't it, dear reader?   I love how the surprise of the revelation of the children being grown is indented just past the word rhythm in the earlier line.  Clever.  And, what a strong image of "the dropped bombs of recent years"....   But, mostly, I just love this idea of a parent's relationship with his children and the placing of such importance on that bedtime reading ritual.  It is one of the greatest pleasures of my day to read to my children every night and to sit beside their beds and scratch their backs and talk about whatever comes to our mind (or remain still and quiet).  Tonight, my son asked me to stay beside his bed for one more minute while he drifted off to sleep.   After that minute, I leaned in and whispered - "I love you."  Without missing a beat and with his eyes closed, he whispered it back - "I love you, Mommy."   Too precious.  I can't even think about it down here in the living room only an hour or two later without tearing up.   The trust.  The uncomplicated affection.  I know it won't be there forever in this form.  But, maybe both of us will remember it fondly enough to experience what this poet did, eh?   I know I can't keep the bombs from dropping in his life, but oh how I wish I could.   I hope when they do, he will think of how much his mama loved him - beyond all reason - and will feel comfort in the memory of our lovely bedtime snuggles.

So, oh my goodness, there's a lot of transition and work and craziness and just "life" happening right now.   It's early days yet, but I feel like this change in my job situation is going to be very good for me.  I am giving up some responsibility that was, I now am starting to realize, really starting to burn me out and drain me of my ability to really focus on positive things in my life.   I am feeling an awakening of excitement and interest in the events of my work day.   New creative initiatives to think about as the Director of an Arts Center.   Stuff I like to focus on.   And, a bit more emotional and intellectual space in my brain and in my schedule for teaching and making music.

I'm really struggling with figuring out how to focus on these positive things and things that bring me joy and not cut myself off from engaging with the things that are so overwhelming right now - the violence in the world, the racism (and the implications of my own white privilege), the insanity of the Republican ticket, the cultural anger volcanoes that seem to be erupting all over the world.  Not to mention the guilt I feel about letting my kids get sucked into electronic devices while I practice for this upcoming recital.  Not to mention feeling like I am not good enough at virtually anything I do.   I mean, WHOA.   WTF?   I can't ignore this stuff.   But, I can't engage with it all the time.   I need time to think about how I can wrestle with all of it without letting it pull me under.   This is really my challenge in life, I think.    Wrestling with things is a given for me because I am highly sensitive, engaged, passionate person.   I will not ever be phlegmatic or totally disinterested and unattached to my emotions.   But, here's what I am slowly, slowly, slowly learning to ask myself in all my crazy moments of feeling overwhelmed:   What is happening RIGHT NOW?   What do I need?   What do I think is really important?    What can make me most loving and effective toward myself and others in my life?

I am currently pondering the idea of signing up for one of those meal ingredient delivery services (Blue Apron, Sun Basket, Hello Fresh) a couple of times a week.   I honestly think that having everything arrive in the correct quantities and a step-by-step plan to follow when I am just exhausted at the end of my work day would be beneficial.   I have been hesitating because of the financial commitment, but I think I probably waste a lot of money by going out too frequently because of my weariness and/or buying groceries that I end up not using....   I may try this.  

So, I'm totally reading two books at the same time - "The Little Paris Bookshop" by Nina George, an epic later-in-life romance that revolves around a book seller who finds books to heal broken hearts and "It Was Me All Along: A Memoir" by Andie Mitchell who chronicles her process of losing 100 lbs. but also working on the emotional issues of food addiction and abuse.   Her writing resonates so exactly with me, it's uncanny.  

Here's one of her blog posts which EXACTLY describes me:

http://www.andiemitchell.com/ill-do-it-as-soon-as-i-lose-weight/

It really makes me sad to think that I've done this to myself so thoroughly.   Life is happening to me right now, folks.  At this weight.   With this body.   I should not think that I don't deserve to fully embrace myself and the possibility of relationships and activities.   Sigh.   Still working on it, but recognition is the first step, right?   I know that I crave deep connections and meaning and purpose and space for myself and my interior life.   I want to take care of myself and treat myself well, so that others can treat me well.   Too often, I rely on food to substitute for these connections or I blame my lack of connection and meaning and purpose on my weight.   It is a pure form of self-sabotage.   It's like I am trying to make myself invisible (and gaining weight is a fairly effective way of doing that in this culture and society) so that my deep needs won't take up too much space in people's lives.   And, too often, I am attracted to people that I KNOW cannot handle my needs or the amount of space (metaphorically and figuratively) that I take up.   Dang.   I want to be the kind of girl that can just claim and honor my neediness as reasonable and a sign of my wholehearted approach to life, you know?   Ah, well.    What is happening RIGHT NOW?   What do I need?  How can I be loving to myself and others?   See.   Just repeating those things calms me down.   I don't need to fix myself.  I just need to approach each moment as it is and ask myself these questions.   And, someday, I will live into answers.   Or learn to exist and thrive without the answers.   Ha.

So, I read a couple of lines in "The Little Paris Bookshop" which made me smile:

"Claudine Gulliver.   A spinster of Rubenesque proportions in her mid forties..."  

and

"Books were my friends," said Catherine, and cooled her cheek, which was red from the heat of cooking, on her wine-glass.  "I think I learned all my feelings from books.  In them I loved and laughed and found out more than in my whole non reading life."

RIGHT?   I hear you, Catherine.  Me, too.  :)

OK.  Enough rambling.   Here's what I'm going to do.   Try out the meal ingredient delivery surface.  Make to-do lists of one or two items each day that are ridiculously easy to check off.   What are the two most important things to get done today?  Just do them.   No overachieving.   Continue practicing mindfully for my chamber music recital in a couple of weeks.  Love the music.   Love the process.   Exercise.   Smile.  Read poetry.   Forgive myself.  Keep my light shining.   Look for possibility.  Forgive myself.

Peace to you, dear reader.   Thanks for reading!