What Two Feels Like

Just a quick post.  I still have to iron and grade and somehow it is already 8:06. Wait a sec.....  Okay, I got the iron turned on so that it can warm up whilst I write.

The cable was shut off today.  Thank goodness, I say.  I have things to do and those America's Next Top Model marathons were dragging the life out of me.  I panicked for about 10 seconds, but I then I turned on an episode of the Daily Show on my Roku box and ate some chili from yesterday and figured I'd be alllllright.  The good news, the show is right where I left it.  Oh snap.

And Sweet Sam turned TWO this weekend...

He's the bestest, and we had a lot of fun watching him run around, play, giggle and open presents.  Turns out, my gift of the Sesame Street Peek-a-boo House of Fun was his favorite.  Sam likes to hit buttons that do things, and that little toy is a goldmine of button pushing fun.  I win.  Not that it was a competition, but I like to think of myself informally as "Best Auntie Ever". 

When I was two, my dad took me to Utah and canyonlands in the old Volkswagen bus.  When you're two, you don't really have dream vacations, but I can tell you that Utah wasn't really on my radar back then.  I remember bits and pieces of the trip; riding around on the back of my dad's bicycle, eating ramen noodles and cheerios like they were goin out of style, climbing over big trees and stopping for swingsets (I loved a good swingset).  Being two is when life is easiest, I think.  Your basic needs are met, you run and play and laugh and jump, and you feel like a genius if you learn how to say "more cookies, please".  

My terrible twos involved some vandalism.

Happy Birthday, Sammie!  I love watching you grow up!

WWAMD: What would Aunt Marti do?

I've been very productive recently, and maybe this "getting rid of the cable" extravaganza has been the boost to my volition.  I think getting back into school has done that too, nothing like a schedule, grading and lesson plans to get you on track.  But I've been struggling with the little (and not so little) squirrels that get into my day and chew on power lines and make nests in the attic.  Sometimes life is hard, sometimes it is breezy, that is the nature of it.  I don't want my life to be all one thing, and I think I have a pretty good balance going on, but I hate when I get to those "unanswerable" questions.  Everyone's unanswerable questions are different, mine seem to be like quicksand, sucking me slowly downward into a suffocating paralysis (sheeze... that sounded dramatic, but you know what I mean).  My top three big questions: Will I find love?  Will I have a baby?  Will the Broncos start Tim Tebow?  I'm kinda impatient when life gets all nebulous-y and vague.  I get all Veruca Salt up in here and demand answers so that I can continue on with my day.  It would all be so much easier if I knew what was going to happen so that I could stop worrying about it. 

Go that way!

It would be fair to say that in these moments I miss my Aunt Marti a lot.  Marti had this way of taking my mind off the scary bits of my own life, usually by reminding me of some much larger problem that was equally as unanswerable and yet infinitely more solvable, like No Child Left Behind.  Aunt Marti was not one to sit and ruminate on the big questions and she was never one to feel self-pitying.  There was always something else to put her mind to.  I wish I was more like that.  I wish I wasn't so indulgent of these big-assed questions that seem to stop me like a deer in the headlights.  For now, maybe it is enough to just think on Marti and try to think what she would say or do.  It isn't an answer, but it helps. 

Wait... what?

I'm going to get rid of my cable.  It's time.  I can't remember the last time something was reaaaaally on tv that I reaaaaaally needed to watch.  Most of what is on is so completely superfluous to the world.  Jersey Shore is not changing the world, unless changing the world involves filming the drunken antics of semi-literate morons, which it doesn't.  Old episodes of "Friends" are great, but I know all the lines of all the episodes.  I could probably start a "Friends" reenactment club, which sounds cool.  TV sucks the life out of me.  I find myself sitting and mindlessly clicking through a hundred channels as a kind of self-medication.  I'm trying to live mindfully this year.  That is kind of an Aunt Martha thing.  She was a very mindful person.  She really didn't do things frivolously or casually.  Intentionality and purpose were her hallmarks. 

Aunt Marti not watching television, with Keisha the great dog.

I wonder what will occur in place of the cable-coma?  My hope is that I will read more... because I have a lot of frickin books to read.  I hope I will write more letters and cards to people.  I hope I will feel more energy.  I hope I start that "Friends" reenactment club.  Mostly, I hope I will feel more mindful and content instead of feeling chaotic and scattershot.  I'll keep you posted.

Hopeful cats and 72 degrees of sunshine...

I'm basking a little bit today. It's 72 sweet degrees. All my windows are open. It is Sunday and I don't have to teach tomorrow. The chores are done and I'm going over to some friends' house for dinner. The kitties are happy.

I've just been listening to my friend Elizabeth's sermon podcast from a couple weeks ago. She's like, amazing. She spoke about hope, shoes, and moving forward. It seems to me that's exactly what hope is, moving forward when it seems easy, or difficult, or smooth, or challenging. We are in perpetual motion in a forward direction. Life doesn't stop when we need a break from it all. That means that we can't dwell too long on the past. We've been there and done that. Our memories and stories are precious, but they can also trap us in a strange cycle of doubt and hesitancy. Shoulda, coulda, woulda are not good roommates; they leave shit everywhere and nag you about that thank you card you never wrote to your great-aunt 15 years ago. Past-dwelling can also be a good way to self-medicate. Why think about today when you can be back in the time when things were good? That sure feels good until you realize it's 2011. Then you have guilt and regret that you've wasted time thinking about something you can never get back.

"We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars." --Oscar Wilde

But I've been thinking about this perpetual motion forward and my investment in the forward motion. Today is one of those days when I feel really stinkin good. It has a little to do with the weather, and maybe a little more to do with how full and good my life is right now. I have amazing friends and wonderful family. I have belly-laughed a lot in the last couple weeks. I have food and shelter and two reasonably well-behaved kitties. There is hope in the good days, that they will be our fuel when the days seem difficult. I think hope can be the thing with feathers that perches in our souls and could fly away at any moment (see Emily Dickinson), but mostly I think hope is like the good friend who reminds you that this one wild and precious life is all you get (see Mary Oliver). Hope means looking forward and believing that the next moment will surpass our greatest expectations. I HOPE your expectations are being surpassed right now.

photo courtesy of my friend Jenn who took it at my favorite place, Nye Beach