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

Four Weddings, a funeral, and a summer....

May seems so long ago. I suppose that is the mark of a good summer, that it was long and full. It started with graduation, happy parents, good food, and delirious seniors. Yes, I got pranked.

Then summer took a bit of a turn as we said goodbye to my aunt Martha. When our loved ones pass on, we can't figure out how to be. How does the day start again without her? I think I needed the whole summer to figure that out and I'm still kinda struggling, but the days have continued, and the sun has risen many times since. This summer was a good time to be around my family and remember her.

I traveled to the Oregon coast and the high desert of New Mexico. I went boating with my family and took care of my friends' dogs.




And there were books, boats, babes, beads and birdies (okay, not a birdie, but definitely par).





And there were the weddings. I called myself "the wedding bitch". If you have a wedding detail needs doin', I will get her done. Yes, it was very "27 Dresses" of me. I fetched things, I set up chairs and centerpieces. I carted sushi and wax stamped about a billion placecards. Shoot, at one wedding, all I had to do was show up, that was really fun. I loved being able to participate in all the details and processes of each special day, and the actual weddings were really really beautiful. Joy, peace, beauty and love were the winners in every single wedding I attended, but FYI, payback is coming, ya'll.




But the best part of summer was the big sky. Everywhere I went, the sky seemed to change and transform itself. I felt it's vastness and it's warmth, and it challenged me to stop and be. Yeah, I always have a summer "to-do" list, and for the most part, it got done, but that's beside the point. It was my summer to recharge, to meditate, and to remember. This is a moment, it will pass as soon as it will come, and sometimes that is a relief, and sometimes that is a heartbreak, but the important thing is to be IN it.

Leaps of Faith

One of my former students started a blog, and her first post was about skydiving. I thought she was being metaphorical, because you know, going to college is kinda scary, a big leap of faith and what have you. No, she meant actually jumping out of an airplane with a cute tandem guide named Bobby and a parachute strapped to her back. I'm always in awe of people who do crazy stuff. I'm not really like that; I'm a "ground" kind of person. But as I watched Lyndsay and her sister Lauren skydiving, I was thinking a lot about leaps of faith.


Lauren and Lyndsay, pre-jump

As we drove out to the landing strip in the back of a generously shaking trailer truck, the tandem skydiving guides and the skydiving "hobbyists" argued that it was no more a leap of faith than going into an elevator. These people are seasoned, jumping up to 10 times a day, and they know that everything works; the parachute is well-packed, there's always a backup chute opener, the guides know what they are doing, yadda yadda yadda. But I argue that stepping out of an airplane at 35,000 feet is not really routine. We HOPE that the parachute is well-packed, we HOPE that we don't have to use the backup opener, we HOPE that the guide is well-trained. We don't know.


Safe landing

I'm going to a wedding today, and I think again about leaps of faith. Getting married is scary to me. I am always in awe of two people who put rings on the other's finger and say, "I will be there for you, and I HOPE you'll be there for me". Fingers crossed, ya'll! I would be just as nervous jumping out of a plane as I would be about getting married. This may account for why I have not done either. But I wonder if I could go through a day without any leap of faith, big or small. The first day of school is ALWAYS a leap of faith. Eating expired yogurt is a leap of faith. Shoot, wearing a sleeveless dress to this wedding tonight will be a big frickin' leap of faith.

I guess my point is that ife isn't always about "ground", sometimes (especially if you want it to be really great) it is about soaring.