A Doggy Dish

We've been thinking about getting a dog for several years now. We felt our 12-year old daughter Laura would make a great dog owner because she's so eager to have a companion and loves animals. Although my husband is a skeptic, I figured if I laid out the responsibilities of dog ownership and helped her understand all that is required of having a dog of her own, and had her agree to them, she would follow through with few problems.  We could even have her sign a contract, with everything spelled out in detail, including what would happen if she didn't live up to the expectations.

We see that many of our friends have dogs and seem to love interacting with them -- and they make dog ownership look really easy. I see their Facebook posts all the time. Their "little bestie" cuddled at their feet in front of the fire and looking adoringly up at the camera. The family photos with the kids holding the dog.  The cute doggy with the sweater romping through the snow.  The dog sitting at the window waiting for a family member to return. I could imagine having a lazy dog lying on our front porch, or following Craig when he's out working in our 2-acre yard, playing ball with Laura or learning new tricks at the agility course I imagined we would build some day, greeting me with a big doggy smile when I get home from work.

I figured a dog would be a great companion for me too. My husband Craig is a quiet guy who likes his alone time, watching sports, old TV series, car shows and the History channel. Also we have very different sleep schedules. I'm an early riser and sometimes get a little lonely in the quiet of the house when he and Laura sleep in.  I could imagine a dog lying in the kitchen watching me make breakfast, getting up every once in a while to come see what I'm doing. Or lying next to me on the couch while I read, my hand on it's head. I think about it riding with me into town with its head out of the car window, taking long walks together on our country road. Sounds lovely, cozy and easy.

My romantic notions of having a dog

are pretty much as realistic as my

romantic notions of having a husband...

Can you tell I have never owned a dog? My parents took one in when I was in college but that's my only experience of living -- part time -- with a big, clumsy, fat, smelly, stubborn red-headed Irish Setter named Lucy. I roll my eyes when I think of Lucy. 

So during Christmas vacation we got a dog.  Henna is a rescue dog from the local shelter and was a bargain, only $25 instead of $95, because of a holiday sale and the over abundance of dogs. "Housebroken, well-mannered, good with kids, 2 1/2 years old, wormed, vaccinated, fixed, medium-sized sheltie mix, " is all we knew about her. She was sweet and soft, henna-colored, with cute perky fold-down ears and big brown eyes lined in dark brown. We think she might be sheltie or border collie mixed with Chow.
 

We've had Henna Renee

two whole weeks now and this is

what I've learned about dogs and dog ownership so far:

1. Expect the unexpected. We brought her home two days before Christmas -- a few hours before Laura came down with strep throat, five days before my husband got the flu, 9 days before it turned into pneumonia. He's still home in bed. Even with all the preparations before hand -- a crate, food and water dishes, treats, collar, leash, 20' line, toys, dog bed, old blankets, baby gates, plastic bags for poop, dog shampoo, flea drops, plans for training -- something will not go as planned.  Laura didn't get to bond with her as she had hoped because she was so sick and I had to take over the feeding and walking duties.  She didn't even have the energy to play or cuddle with Henna, for several days. As a result, Henna now follows me everywhere and looks to me as the pack leader, the alpha female.   

2. Dogs are tricky.  They make you think they understand "sit", "stay", "come", because they do it every time you give them a treat, but when they really don't want to listen to you they won't "sit", "stay" and "come".  They make you believe they will always stay right by you when you unhook them from the leash before heading into the house, but just once they decide it would be more fun to run helter skelter down the driveway, up the road and behind a neighbor's house instead, and ignore your panic stricken "come!" command and "treat!" pleading. I remember when Lucy used to run away from my parents' house and rummage around in the local bar's trash dumpster.  A regal Irish Setter she was not.

3. Kids are tricky. They find ways to make you think they understand the expectations, but when the time comes they find all sorts of ways of getting out of chores then look at you like you have snakes crawling out of your ears when you say, "But you agreed to the terms". They don't see the 6 mounds of poop in the yard, don't see the empty dish, don't hear the dog pawing at the door to come in, and they have a way of quietly disappearing behind closed doors so they don't have to deal with a pup who wants to play.

4. Always add a "No complaining or you lose your iPod" clause in that contract. No matter how well you spell it out ahead of time in black and white, picking up dog poop looks much better on a paper contract than in real life to a 12 year old. So does a 6:30 am walk in the dark and windy cold mornings, especially on snow days when there is a 2-hour delay.

5.  Henna's a fan of Taylor Swift's "Shake It Off", evidently. A wet dog will mess up the whole house with wet, sticky, smelly dog hair, no matter how you try to contain her after a bath. I had to wipe down the whole bathroom from floor to ceiling, clean the mirror, wash the tub, wipe off the toilet, vacuum the stairs and entry hall (again), use a Swiffer on the entry walls and kitchen floor, and wash my sweat pants and t-shirt, 3 beach towels, 2 bath mats, and 1 tooth brush (sorry Laura). I then had to follow her around the house with a beach towel to make sure she didn't shake or jump on anything else.  She wanted to so badly, but after I ran after her and covered her with that towel every time she showed a sign of shaking, she soon gave up and asked to go out doors. Unfortunately it was too cold and she was still too wet, so into her crate she went.  Later I had to wash the bedding in her crate because it was damp and covered with sticky hair (I had just washed it earlier that day).  Henna-colored wet dog hair looks eerily like red dog hair, by the way.

6. Dog shampoo doesn't get rid of dog smell. Wet dogs smells like Lucy. That reminds me, I need to make an appointment with the dog groomer because I'm not going to try the bath thing again.

7. Dogs follow you everywhere and watch everything you do.  Every step, every bite, every open cabinet or door, every zipper, every page, every sip.  Henna even watches me make coffee...one step behind me to the right, unless I step back to the left, then she's there.

8. Henna doesn't appreciate my thoughtfulness. I bought a 20 foot line and attached it to the gate of our back deck, which is 20 feet from our back sliding glass door, which means we can slide open the door, hook the line to her collar, then she can run out the gate and 20 feet into the back yard.  Perfect.  Ingenious.  That's the theory at least. The reality is Henna wants me to stand by her every time she goes potty and doesn't want to go out back alone -- especially at 6:30 when it's still dark, it's windy, and there is a full moon.  Hook Henna up, shut the sliding door, Henna walks two feet, stops, turns around, paws the door, stands on her hind legs and plasters herself against the door, wipes her wet doggy nose on the door as she whines and dances, smearing wet paws across the glass. I've washed the door 4 times in 2 weeks.  Fortunately Henna rarely barks -- unless I shut the gate so she can't come back up onto the deck. 

9. Also, Henna doesn't want to chew her dog bone alone on the deck or in the yard, and husband doesn't want Henna to chew the bone in the house. Throw the bone out to the yard, Henna will fetch it, drop it at the back door, then paw at the door and whine.  Open the door, throw the bone back out into the yard, Henna will fetch it and bring it back to the door and ask to be let in. The sound of Henna pawing at the back door reminds me a lot of Lucy hitting my parents' back door.

10. Dogs really don't eat everything, especially not the food you buy them and put in their dish.  Everything else but. They will eat pretzel crumbs from the floor and the seat of my husband's Lazy Boy recliner, pieces of dog food that fell out of the bag (the same food I put in her dish) and are hidden under the dish, zucchinis on the counter that I am planning to make for dinner, old moldy stale bread we threw into the field, frozen dog poop, finger nail clippings, and other miscellaneous items, but not the food I put in their dish and intend for her to eat.  Finally at the end of the day, when they realize you aren't going to give them something else, they will grab a nugget of their dog food out of their dish and walk 15 feet across the vinyl floor, drop it on the carpet, crunch it into a million tiny crumbs mixed with doggy drool, until it becomes an ugly mess, then walk back for another piece. I remember once when Lucy inhaled a whole raw steak from stove top when I walked away for a minute to answer the door.  She also found the Christmas-wrapped box of M&M cookies I had made for my boyfriend and tore it open and picked out and ate all the M&M's, but left the cookies.  I vaguely remember her stealing the turkey carcass one Thanksgiving and eating the Herman cake my aunt brought one time when she visited.  It was one of those cakes that required her to do something to the batter every day for two whole weeks before baking it.

11. Dogs try to follow you even when they are in front of you.  They stop every few seconds and look back at you to gauge which way you are heading next, so they often weave back and forth one step in front of you, or stop quickly, or change direction, or turn around in a circle. Never a straight line.  This makes them very easy to trip over. Or step on. Or spill things on.

12. They always seem to love the person who wants them around the least, and they act annoyed by the person who gives them attention.  Henna wants to sit on Craig's lap.  Craig does not want Henna or any other dog on his lap.  Laura wants Henna to sit on her lap. Henna is not interested. Henna follows me everywhere. I don't really want a creature following me everywhere. I just got to the point when Laura doesn't follow me everywhere and I was really appreciating that freedom after 27 years of motherhood.

I know I have so much more to learn about owning and loving a dog. At the moment I'm not sure how I feel about that.  I do know I feel I have lost some of my freedom and the peaceful alone time I treasure. Everyone tells me it's all worth it because you get so much love back.  We'll see.

I'm sure I'll have lots of doggy tales to share and "new dog owner" advice to dish out soon!
    

The beauty of light

We stood in a circle, holding hands. I looked around at the faces of students, professors, staff and visitors. At that moment some of them looked radiant. Others looked stressed, tired, sad, or preoccupied. As the silent prayer began I looked down and focused on the center of the circle as I often do, to "center" myself by concentrating on that space where I imagine our energies converge.

First I noticed a patch of light flickering on the carpet, smack dab in the middle of the circle, coming from a window above us, fading in and out, wavering as clouds passed overhead.  I thought, "How nice is that? Sunshine is entering our circle".

 
Then I recognized the shape of the shadow within the distorted rectangle of light and I smiled.  I looked around at others to see if they had noticed it too, but their eyes were closed as they prayed.

Once a week we gather in a circle, hold hands, voice our joys and concerns, then say a prayer before sharing a meal together.  Some people, especially those who are not Quaker, might think this is a strange or uncomfortable thing to do with one's coworkers. I find it comforting. I feel at home. Peacefully at home. We are a group of people sharing the content of our lives with each other, not just sharing space as we do our jobs.

The people who work and study here are very intelligent, well-traveled, insightful, extremely caring individuals.  They each have their causes and passions that drive them to do good works, here in the seminary and out in the world. They have jolly laughs and endearing quirks.  They live simply and give extravagantly. They care about each other deeply.

The way they interact with one another, the way they interact with the world beyond the seminary, inspires me. It warms me to be in their presence. I can feel their light around me.  It is changing me.

I came here to work, exhausted, bitter, resentful and resigned. I felt I had struggled but lost my foothold on that rocky cliff called "career".

But while working in the light of those who study and work here, I feel I am being transformed, as light that shines through a gray dark window is transformed. Once again I feel I am doing good, honest work.  I feel I have a purpose and I am valued in many ways.  I enjoy my work and my coworkers again. Because of this, and because I'm exposed to so many faithful and spiritual others, my faith in "something greater" is being restored. 

I feel like the light from those around me is shining through a gray, dark window within me and it is being transformed.  It's a faint shadow, just a symbol, but somehow it offers hope and comfort.

 

It's the Most (un)Wonderful Time of the Year

I find it ironic that some people are so offended by the use of "Happy Holidays" instead of "Merry Christmas"; they seem almost militant in their determination to accept "Merry Christmas" as the only appropriate greeting during the holiday season. This confuses me because Christmas is supposed to be about love, peace and giving.  "Christ Mass" is supposed to commemorate the birth of a man who is identified throughout the Gospels as teaching love, acceptance, inclusiveness and humbleness. Forcing "Merry Christmas" on every person, no matter what their background and beliefs, seems just the opposite.  I'm not sure how this kind of disrespect fits into Christ's "Love thy neighbor" teachings.

Many also complain when others use "Xmas" as an abbreviation, assuming they are somehow trying to "X out" or eliminate the "reason for the season." Each year I post an annual Holiday message in my Facebook status to spread the word to those who don't yet know:

"No one is excluding Christmas or Christ when they offer a "Happy Holidays" instead of "Merry Christmas", and no one is "striking Christ out of Christmas" when they use the term "Xmas". The word "Holidays" comes from the term "Holy Days", which includes Christmas and religious holidays (many that were around before the first Christmas). The term "Xmas" includes the symbol X for the Greek letter Chi, which is the first letter of the Greek word Χριστός, often translated as "Christ"."

Another blogger explains, "The Greek chi which has a sacred history of being an abbreviation for "Christ" Thus, "Xmas" is short for "Christmas." Christ, therefore, has not been taken out of Christmas nor is this a secular, anti-Christian attack on Christmas. Abbreviating Christmas does not make one less a Christian or anti-Christmas anymore than abbreviating any other word. The chi is a reminder that Christmas is about the incarnation of God who condescended himself as a man in order to save mankind."



This silliness is just one of the reasons I don't like the Christmas season, a season that is supposed to be about loving and giving but has become about spending, rushing, exhaustion, complaining, over doing, greed, conflict and extreme commercialism. Again ironically, those who complain the loudest about "putting Christ back in Christmas", the "war over Christmas" and emphasizing Christmas over "holidays" are often the same ones who brag the loudest about their Black Friday buying sprees and their endless Christmas activities that really have nothing to do with Christ's birthday.

Even before Halloween the Christmas countdown begins. While many of us are trying to prepare for Thanksgiving others are preparing their strategies for Black Friday, which now starts on Thanksgiving Day at some stores.  The day's focus can no longer be just about family time and the feast of thanks giving. Store employees are now forced to work on a day that used to be set aside for family time because of this two-day period that is focused on mass consumption. It's all about store ads and coupons, pre-dawn camp-outs in front of stores, and the race to pick up an item before another shopper does. The news is filled with fights breaking out between shoppers. Yet the news is also filled with rants about the so-called "War on Christmas". 


I read a really great article in Sojourners Magazine (http://sojo.net/blogs/2013/12/10/theres-war-christmas-just-not-one-you-think) about the "War on Christmas". Here are some quotes:

"The real “war on Christmas” is when we are more worried about saving a buck than we are about the millions of people in this world without access to clean water or medicine or that there are 22,000 homeless children in New York City alone."

"The real “war on Christmas” is when Americans spend $450 billion on Christmas; however, it would take only $20 billion to ensure that all people in the world could have access to clean water for a year."

"The real “war on Christmas” is when Americans buy products because they are cheap without thinking twice about the person who made it, their working conditions, their pay, or even their age. (Yes, that’s right their age. In some countries it is legal to employ children.)"

"The real “war on Christmas” is when Christians support the overspending and mass consumption propagated by our “spend, spend, spend” culture."

"This so-called “war” is something that Christians every year are participating in but point the judgmental fingers at others."



I totally agree.  The over consumption, the greed, that "spend, spend, spend" culture sickens me, and that's why I don't like Christmas, or least what Christmas has become. Also I don't like feeling pressured to buy things I and others don't need and we can't afford.  I don't like feeling pressured to spend valuable time putting up decorations that I'm going to take down a few weeks or a month later. I don't like losing a meaningful holiday -- Thanksgiving -- to an ever expanding Christmas season.

What others do and what others think about Christmas is none of my business--as long as they don't force their views on me and try to control my thoughts and actions.  As soon as others start pressuring me to act or react in a way that suits them, without regard to my beliefs, then I have issues. Others can do what they want but for me I will continue to try to be inclusive and respectful of believers and non-believers, of Hindus, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists and those who believe otherwise -- citizens of  the good ol' US of A and citizens of the world who should have the same rights as I have to celebrate our respective religious beliefs. That's just who I am. So Happy Holidays everyone.

  

"Detour Ahead" and other signs of life

"Detour Ahead" was the sign that made an impression on me as I was driving home last evening.  Although I have driven past that exact same sign many times in the last several months, this time it kind of jumped out at me. It glowed. I have noticed this -- the signs I'm supposed to take special notice of will glow. They will seem larger than life for a brief moment. They will almost pulsate in size and color. 

This usually happens as I'm driving to or from work, when I've turned the radio off and purposely made myself "more present", or more aware of what's around me rather than what's in my head. I've sometimes spoke out loud to the empty space in the car "Give me focus, fill me with energy so I can meet the needs of this day and the people around me who depend on me." Sometimes I ask for clarity on a specific issue, on something that worries me or a decision I need to make.  Sometimes I ask for peace of mind or for pain to be taken away -- emotional and physical. Some may consider this prayer or meditation.  Some people may look at me in my car and think of me as a crazy woman talking to herself. I'm not sure what it is but it's a habit I've developed during the last 20 years of driving back and forth between Hagerstown and Richmond. It's my quiet time, my focus time, a buffer between the world of work and the world of home.

I sometimes "dump" my negativity or my problems in the river as I drive over the bridge on W.E. Oler Road.  I want to dump it where it will flow far, far away, not gather, build up, and re-attach to me when I drive over the bridge again.  Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't -- both the dumping and avoiding the reattachment.

Sometimes, symbolically ridding myself of stress, negative emotions or problems is all it takes to make life feel better, more balanced.  But sometimes I have to actually dump real things, make real changes and choices in my life to get back on track.  Sometimes changes and choices are made for me and I fight them, or resent them, because they take me in a direction I don't want to go, or at least not yet.  That resentment creates even more negative energy and stress, for me and the people around me. 

Yesterday, on my way home, one of those life changes, one that I didn't have much say in, one that was made for me many years ago, was heavy on my mind. I felt resentful.  I felt cheated, jilted, unfairly treated, then and now.  I thought about what it's meant for me and those I love, how different things would be now for my loved ones especially, if I had more control over the situation and the timing. I didn't like the negative feeling that had overcome me, that was filling me -- I wanted the moment to be my friend, not my enemy -- so I turned off the radio, focused on the world around me rather than inside of me, and waited in silence as I drove home. I imagined my heart opening and clearing itself of bad energy.  I breathed deeply and evenly. "Peace in, Love out". I looked for signs, patiently, and listened for a message.  And the sign that jumped out at me, pulsated at me, was "Detour Ahead", but the word that stood out the most, in bright glowing clearness, was simply "Detour".

At that instant I understood for certain that if I had been given the control, or the power, to make the the painful decision about my life several years ago, instead of having it made for me, I would have wound up exactly where I am today.  I may have taken a different path, a longer one or a shorter one, a more pleasant one or a more complicated one. However, I knew that the path I had taken, or rather that I felt forced to take at the time, was just a detour, a round about way of arriving at the very same destination where I rest today.

Detours will do that -- they force you off the road you planned to travel, through unknown territory, on a road that's a little rougher, a little less traveled than the main road. They generally take more time than what you allotted for the trip and leave you wondering where you are, how much longer it will take, and where and when you'll get back out on the road that you know leads to your destination.

"Detour Ahead" signs always make me say "crap!", but I realize I always enjoy the scenery, the new discoveries when I take roads I've never traveled, and sometimes find new routes that I prefer to the old one. I have to admit, though, I rarely take the official, marked detour, on main roads that are likely to take me way out of my way and waste lots of my time -- I usually try to find my own way on the little streets and roads that "the powers that be" don't want me to take, ones that help me avoid the traffic, the slow line of others who are blindly following the detour signs and who never question where there are or if there was a better way.  I am more likely to get lost that way but I love the feeling of accomplishment when I get there on my own accord, on my own terms. Maybe that's my way of gaining control over the situation.

Life is full of detours. Knowing that I will prepare the best I can for them, with a full tank of fuel, a map that includes rest stops (aka bathrooms), and reverence for the unknown.

  

Seasons change, love remains

I can't believe summer is almost gone. I am never ready to say goodbye to summer and hello to fall. Who wants to say farewell to longer days filled with warm sunshine, fresh food, wildflowers and green trees, family outings, long walks and road trips? I want to hold them tight and never let go.

Why can't winter pass so quickly?

"Half moon in a steel gray sky, dark clouds hovering, desperate, icy fingers clasp sleepy fields, rather wakened by the warm kiss of a spring sunrise." 

I'm not ready to see the landscapes that inspired this verse I wrote on my way to work one morning last winter. I try to make the best of winter, to just accept it and be patient, but winter hurts -- the gray, cold, emptiness that lasts forever literally hurts.

I have to admit that it's difficult for me to enjoy fall as much as I should when in the back of my mind I'm haunted by the thought that winter is on its way.  It's almost like the overwhelming beauty of the colorful, changing leaves taunt me and remind me the world will all too soon be gray and cold.

And fall is bittersweet, a reminder of both life and death for me and my family.

Our family celebrates the birth of three of our daughters in the fall. My husband and I celebrate our wedding anniversary and my youngest daughter and I celebrate the day I became her second mom.

In the fall we also commemorate the anniversaries of the deaths of two people we love -- my husband's first wife, who passed seven years ago, and my oldest daughter's first love, who died the September before. My first marriage both began and officially ended in the fall. Halloween is my husband's first wife's birthday. And then of course there is September 11th, a day that changed the world.

It's unfortunate that much of fall's sweetness is related to the bitterness. That's always on my mind and often pains me. We are able to celebrate our love because we lost someone we love. We are able to celebrate because of and in spite of our losses.   

"Ready or not, here I come!" fall is calling out to me, while I think about hiding from its painful ways. I sometimes want to pull my covers over my head and sleep through September, like in the Green Day song, to escape the pain, but that's just not me.  Not only do I believe in facing hard things head on, I also know if I sleep through fall I'll miss the beauty of the season and the celebrations of the lives and loves I hold so dear. Instead of escaping, I will celebrate our daughters' birthdays and our anniversary, while also remembering our loved ones who are now gone. I know from experience new love does not erase past love; past love does not diminish current love.

Winter is calling too but winter is a pain in the ass.  I think I'll sleep through winter. Or move to Florida.

--------------------

Green Day - Wake Me Up When September Ends

Summer has come and passed
The innocent can never last
wake me up when September ends

like my father's come to pass
seven years has gone so fast
wake me up when September ends

here comes the rain again
falling from the stars
drenched in my pain again
becoming who we are

as my memory rests
but never forgets what I lost
wake me up when September ends

summer has come and passed
the innocent can never last
wake me up when September ends

ring out the bells again
like we did when spring began
wake me up when September ends

here comes the rain again
falling from the stars
drenched in my pain again
becoming who we are

as my memory rests
but never forgets what I lost
wake me up when September ends

Summer has come and passed
The innocent can never last
wake me up when September ends

-------------------------

Collin Raye - Love Remains

We are born one fine day
Children of God on our way
Mama smiles daddy cries
Miracle before their eyes
They protect us til' we're of age
Through it all love remains

Boy moves on and takes a bride
She stands faithful by his side
Tears and sweat they build a home
Raise a family of their own
They share joy they share pain
Through it all love remains

Kingdoms come and go but they don't last
Before you know the future is the past
In spite of what's been lost
Or what's been gained
We are living proof that love remains

I don't know baby what I'd do
On this earth without you
We all live we all die
But the end is not goodbye
The sun comes up the seasons change
But throught it all love remains
An eternal burning flame
Hope lives on and love remains

  

Room to Breath

Sometimes I pick up a book, open it at a random spot and read a passage, just to see if and how it might speak to me at that moment.  Sometimes it's perfectly fitting to what is going on in my life at that time; sometimes it's so ridiculously unrelated to my circumstances that I get a good laugh and move on. Last Friday this is what I read during my lunch:

"Vocation does not come from willfulness. It comes from listening. I must listen to my life and try to understand what it is truly about -- quite apart from what I would like it to be about -- or my life will never represent anything real in the world, no matter how earnest my intentions."

"That insight is hidden in the word vocation itself, which is rooted in the Latin for "voice". Vocation does not mean a goal that I pursue. It means a calling that I hear. Before I can tell my life what I want to do with it, I must listen to my life telling me who I am. I must listen for the truths and values at the heart of my own identity, not the standards by which I must live -- by the standards by which I cannot help but live if I am living my own life."

This passage was perfectly fitting for me on Friday.

I had just finished eating my lunch of leftovers and reading the "Chronicle of Higher Education" (more proof I am a nerd who has to read all the time, even while eating) in our quiet little break room nicknamed "Patmos", which is modestly situated in a garage across the driveway from the historic house where my reception desk is located.  I spotted my favorite Parker Palmer book in a collection of his books, stacked on one of the library shelves that line one whole wall of Patmos (insert shiver of delight here...library...books). I picked it up and opened it to a random spot, knowing any page I chose, any line I chose to read, would speak directly to me.  I wouldn't expect anything less from a book titled "Let Your Life Speak", of course.  It's one I have at home, with underlines, highlights, handwritten notes and folded down pages.

I smiled as I read the familiar passage, for on that day I celebrated a month of working at the Quaker seminary, where I finally have "space" to listen to my life.

Unlike in my last job, it's not so crazy busy here, wildly chaotic, that I can't hear, can't focus, can't react appropriately to the demands of the job. I can focus on doing each task (large and small) well. It's not stressing me out so badly that I sit in my car and cry, or snap at the sixth person to ask me to help them in a one minute period. It doesn't completely zap me of my energy so I can't meet the needs of the other areas of my life - my family, my hobbies, my home, my friends and myself. It's so nice to have time and energy again to reconnect with friends, be creative and travel a bit.

A photo I took during a lunchtime walk at ESR

The people who I work with are so caring, respectful and warm. It seems to me they truly embody the principles and practices that guide the institution's mission (community, respect for persons, integrity, simplicity, peace & justice).  They care about the community, locally and globally, and are working for the common good, not just their own good, both here at the seminary and in their personal lives.  Their volunteer work on their own time simply amazes me. Besides, they truly appreciate my experience and skills and truly want me to contribute in a way that best suits me, not just the organization. It's a real Quaker community in action, not just words.

I feel like I'm doing meaningful work because I'm helping others do their jobs well. I help solve problems, I provide information, I direct people to useful resources, I help create materials used for teaching, I provide support to those ministering to others. I'm not making a lot of money but I am getting paid appropriately for the work that I do here (or I am now able to do the work that is appropriate for what I'm getting paid). I have good benefits and know that if I have to support myself in the near or far future, I can...well maybe with the addition of a weekend job or free-lance work.

Others may see me as a failure because I'm "only a receptionist and secretary" or because I don't make a lot of money.  They might think I'm not a success because my job doesn't relate to my college major of art education.  Oh wait, that wasn't even my final major because I didn't complete student teaching; my real major was "general studies" -- so I guess my job and my major do relate.

But right now I feel very successful.

I have struggled with this for many years, but I now understand my job does not define me.  It's not who I am and it's not the only thing in my life to give me a purpose.  It's just one component of my life. When I lose a job, or leave a job, I am still me and I still have the same "calling" to be of service to others.  When I'm in a job that doesn't suit me well and the rest of my life is out of balance, I still have a desire to provide information to others, to guide them and to help them grow.  I still have a desire to inspire.  I have learned there are so many other ways to go about fulfilling my "purpose" than through my paid job.

However (and this is a big "however"), my paid job MUST mesh well with the other parts of my life. It must not knock the other aspects of my life out of balance. It must allow me space to breath, space to grow.  The work I am expected to do and the mission of the organization, must not work against my personal values and goals. It must support me and my family in many ways other than just financially.

I always tell young people that they can't know what they want to do with their lives until they know what they don't want to do, and they can't know that until they try it. Even if they come away from the experience and say, "Holy crap, that was horrible!", they have learned something about themselves. It's a wonderful opportunity to examine what they did and figure out why it just didn't work for them. If they listen to their bodies, listen to their minds and listen to their spirits they can then know what is NOT the right direction for them, which will eventually lead them in the right direction. If they don't listen to their lives they run risk of getting sick -- their bodies, minds and and souls will become ill -- depression, anxiety, obesity, insomnia, high blood pressure, etc. The list is long.

Right now I'm successful because I have listened to my life. I listened to the voice within me and made a change that is already feeling healthier, more natural, more useful, more me. I will keep listening and keep making adjustments as my life speaks to me, knowing "Vocation is not a goal to be achieved, but a gift to be received."

A perfect example of  the beauty of "space" in my life.

A Trip Outside of My Comfort Zone

I dream of going away to a spa -- in the mountains, in the desert on on a beach -- where I take long hikes amidst natural beauty, practice sunrise Yoga, get massages and facials, eat fresh and colorful healthy food, and spend time on some kind of creative pursuit -- pottery, painting, photography, writing. This dream vacation would also include some kind of challenge, or something to force me out of my comfort zone, something to make me grow. I'm thinking of primitive camping for a night or two, rock climbing, cooking lessons, hang gliding, something like that. I would stay for a week or two and return home thinner, stronger, healthier, more relaxed and inspired. A girl can dream.

What I dream about having served to me during a spa vacation - Pad Thai with raw zucchini "noodles".

The reality is unless I get a huge raise, find buried treasure or win the lottery, the chances I will ever afford a dream get-away like that is slim to nothing. However, I did recently take a trip and returned home more relaxed and inspired, and if not thinner and stronger I was at least not heavier and weaker -- or poorer! 

Vacationing with a friend instead of my husband really helps reduce the cost of travel (I'll write about how I saved for the trip and how we cut costs, in a future blog). All the saving and scrounging was totally worth it because I came home a renewed and inspired woman.  Most importantly I reconnected with two old friends -- my old friend Marcie and the "old me" -- and I faced a few healthy challenges that made the vacation even more memorable (I wrote about one of them in my previous blog). I also did quite a few things I wanted to do during a vacation - I walked on the beach, swam in the gulf, visited art galleries and antique shops, explored old historic neighborhoods, and ate really, really well.

But by eating really, really well I don't just mean a lot of food.  I mean fresh, healthy, colorful and flavorful foods.

When I arrived at my friend Marcie's house, where I stayed the first and fifth night of my vacation (we stayed on the gulf beach during nights two-four), she told me she had been eating mostly raw, organic, vegan foods for the last three months and had lost almost 20 pounds.  She looked great and said she felt great. She said I didn't need to worry, she wouldn't make me eat those foods too, especially considering it was my vacation.  However, since eating healthy foods was a component of my "spa dream vacation", and I desperately wanted to get back to a healthier lifestyle and lose the weight I had gained during the winter, I eagerly took on the challenge of eating like Marcie. She was thrilled to have someone to share her new food passion with. She was also eager to have someone to try out interesting, locally owned restaurants with her.

Seared tuna steak with field greens and pickled sea weed.

For five days we ate a lot of fabulous food. It was a taste adventure in mostly raw, fresh, whole or "clean" foods -- fresh vegetables, fresh and dried fruit, whole grains, beans and nuts - whole and ground, eggs, fresh fish and seafood, healthy fats such as olive and coconut oils -- foods at their freshest and least processed. We also limited sugar, dairy and red meats, and we didn't drink soda (yet we had a few drinks and ate a few dessert items -- we were on vacation, after all).

 We drank smoothies, juices, infused water and teas; we ate hummus and guacamole, oatmeal with walnuts and fruit (with almond milk), "raw" pizza and tacos (with ground nuts in the crust and as replacements for meat), omelets, crab cakes, tuna, shrimp, sweet potato fries, fresh herbs and spices, amazing salads and even chocolate pie -- which was vegan. The food was fabulous looking and tasting. It was all made fresh and much of it grown locally. I would lie if I said I never craved a Coke or candy, because I did, especially the first few days, but I made it through.

Raw pizza and taco.

I returned home having gained not a pound.  Amazing considering I ate my way through vacation and never went hungry! I felt so good and loved the food so much I decided to continue eating mostly fresh, mostly unprocessed foods, when possible. I am proud to say I have done just that -- and have loved ALMOST every bite.

The biggest change in my diet is that I eat hardly any cheese, bread or sugar, and almost no processed/packaged junk food. I've quit drinking my one per day Coke (I'll have one per week, maybe) and I'm drinking at least 80 ounces of infused water per day (with slices of oranges, lemons and lime). Since I'm limiting dairy I use almond milk in my morning smoothies, along with spinach and fresh fruits and sometimes raw oatmeal. I also eat 2-egg omelets with spinach, mushrooms and tomatoes for breakfast, or sometimes oatmeal with nuts and fruit (with honey or organic coconut palm sugar). I bring fresh veggies and hummus or guacamole, a huge green salad (with olive oil and balsamic vinegar dressing), or left over cooked veggies and quinoa -- and sometimes a little grilled chicken or packaged tuna -- for lunch. I fix greens and a grilled, fresh low-fat meat for dinner, with squash, sweet potatoes or beans for dinner. For snacks I'll eat fresh or dried fruit, or nuts, or sometimes whole wheat pretzels or corn tortilla chips.  I am down to one cup of coffee per day and to be perfectly honest I don't crave the coffee like I used to, but I don't want to cut it out of my diet completely because coffee has a lot of health benefits (and I don't want to get withdraw headaches). 

As of today -- a month after returning from vacation -- I have lost 8 pounds.  It's not a lot but it's a start. I feel so much healthier and I have more energy.  I don't have acid reflux like I used to and my digestion has improved noticeably.  I have also noticed I haven't had as many headaches and I have much less sinus pressure and allergy symptoms.  Also I have less joint pain and my ankles aren't swollen. My skin looks brighter and my wrinkles less noticeable. 

It's not easy to always eat "clean", whole foods, especially when one works full time and has to cook for and accommodate a family (which doesn't have an interest in eating "clean"). Also it's difficult to find a variety of fresh foods in a small town. When I do eat something that doesn't follow the fresh, clean or whole foods criteria, like pizza or grilled cheese, I feel really bad -- sluggish from head to toe, inside and outside.

Eating healthy foods has become a challenge for me -- a good one -- and I look forward to experimenting with foods, tasting new recipes, and feeling better and better every day.  I have forced myself out of my comfort zone, or at least to the edge of my comfort zone, where there is space for me to develop and experiment.  It's a good feeling.