Kindnessgirl

I have 2 modes of operating in pregnancy. Deny and Defy. I pretty much spend the first 12-20 weeks in complete disbelief that I am actually pregnant. I think for sure it won’t stick because I never get sick- horrible, I know, but its probably some deep seeded self protection from a long ago miscarriage.

When I decide I am in fact, well, pregnant, I then spend the rest of the time trying to defy it.

“Of course I can move the refrigerator, I’m pregnant, not dead.”

“Run a couple miles at 32 weeks, yeah, sure. Lift weights on the 6th day of the 39th week? totally.”

“Come on, the women in the fields had babies and kept on goin’? Why can’t I?”

“and yes, I will be wearing my bikini until the bitter end.”

It’s quite obvious I’ve been failing beautifully at pregnancy for quite some time now. I hear from Anne Lamott that all kinds of amazing things spring from failure. Everything seems different this time, the opportunity to claim a different way lies so clearly in front of me. My expertise in failure has primed me for a hopeful start to change.

Lessons learned so far:

1. Denial is sort of a joke on me…the connections are there far sooner than I ever imagined. It takes me one little scare to realize just how much I care and have all along. It’s okay to love too soon.

2. Pregnancy calls me to be very present in my body, in the moment, in the experience. Sometimes, this is (literally) a pain in the ass, but other moments it is almost sacred.

3. Vulnerability is my friend, not a foe. She makes us human and creates opportunities for nurture. Pride can make you miss out on acts of kindness and love you really need. Strength is not always something to be admired especially when it stands in the way of growth.

4 . Receiving is almost important as giving…it levels the playing field and requires that we all rely on each other.

5. It’s good to bask in “my delicate condition”- doors being opened for you, fuss over how you are feeling, rest, concern and care…these are to be welcomed and savored.

6. I need to stop saying- “I don’t have time to be pregnant!”- yes, there is time, more than enough time…my life will continue because I know no other way but this time, I am pregnant in that life. It sounds completely ridiculous but it all makes perfect sense to me.

Truth be told, every one is birthing/growing something. It’s happening all around. May the universe treat to you with all care and concern accordingly…

Ever so often I have this fantasy of running off to a hotel for a few days. In my head it’s 5 star, of course. I order an offensive amount of room service and lay around all day in the yummiest robe my skin can imagine. I lose the terry heaven only for massages and candle lit baths.

The Jefferson isn’t exactly in my budget these days but this can not keep me from practicing acts of kindness upon myself. A 3 star hotel courtesy of Priceline (at a third of the price) and Panera’s portabello/mozarella pannini does the trick for me.

My friends laugh- “You’re what? You’re in a hotel, by yourself, in our city?”

Yes! Gloriously, yes! 24 hours of silence, a dark and cool room, a ridiculously long hot shower, a large bed by myself, uninterrupted reading, listening only to my own needs…this is exactly what mothers of young children need.

Don’t have the money you say? One time after a particularly horrific night with Lucy I called a dear friend with a large house.

“Hey, I had the crappiest night with Luce. I desperately need a hotel night but I have no money. Can I come take a nap in your guest bed?”

This dear friend couldn’t be happier that I called. She picked up lunch for us, I took a 3 hour nap and she brought me tea when I woke up.

So my friends, here are some kind ideas for you:

Nature Escape (a low cost option):

Start with a long walk in your favorite nature spot. This is one of mine…

Find a nice spot and practice some form of creativity (draw, sing, knit, paint, etc) or just lay in the sun (rest, read)

Meet your favorite friend for lunch on a outdoor patio somewhere yummy…

Find a friend’s house you can retreat to for a nap, girlfriends without kids are best…or go home, I bet your mom will let you sleep in your old bed that is now the guest room. A nap in a lumpy bed is still inviting.

This retreat is great for mom’s who can’t be gone too long or have nursing babes…

Hibernating Heaven (a moderate cost option):

Book a hotel room in your favorite part of your city.

Download a few of your favorite movies or pick up some DVD’s to watch on your lap top.

Buy snacks, good chocolate, and silly magazines.

Bring your bathing suit just in case you want to take a dip in the hot tub.

Check-in as early as you can. Spend the afternoon napping and relaxing.

Invite a friend to join you at the hotel for a take-out/delivery dinner and watch a cheesy girl movie.

Take a soak in the tub/whirlpool and turn in early.

Order room service for breakfast, leisurely pack up and head back to the real world.

The Whole She-Bang (a lot of bananas):

Mix an experience w/ rest.

My sister swears by Portland, OR– this artsy, funky city has the best markets, dining and culture for the best get-a-way.

My heart, well actually stomach, adores Miami. Digging your feet in the sand, the best people watching and yummy dinners and mojitos at Versailles, you’ll never want to leave.

Immerse yourself in the biggest nature…the California Redwoods, The Grand Canyon, Yellowstone, any coast….nature is powerful and almost always good for the soul.

If all of this sounds completely out of your league- way more than you can give yourself at the moment or too frivolous for you, start small…a new book, good shampoo, a movie by yourself.

This requires effort and intention on our part and it always doubles our ability to extend kindness to others.

Leave your own suggestions of self love in the comments…it’s good to be kind.

Watching Gandhi and Enchanted in one weekend makes you believe you can save the world and your true love even with morning sickness…that and love and truth always win.

Whatever problem you have, I promise you the Sound of Music can fix it.

Feeling blue or scared? Just think of your favorite things.

Needing someone to take care of you? Are you feeling unable to face a world of men? Find someone 17 going on 18. no scratch that, just someone older and wiser.

Don’t quite fit in? It probably means it’s time to go climb every mountain, just ford every stream. Never give up on your dreams.

Feeling unsure of your self? Despite what you see, I have confidence in me. It’s nothingthe Mother Superior, an old carpet bag and a new adventure can’t fix.

Somewhere along the way I started to tell myself some lies about who I am. It’s so easy to do really, sometimes all it takes is one crappy experience as a kid or a particular placement in your family, a situation you find yourself in, just one little thing that you allow to sneak into your heart. Once you start to believe and invest in these untruths, they become bigger and hard to shake. We often struggle, endure, grieve, create space, make peace and embrace whole parts of ourselves that were never true in the first place.

This makes climbing mountains and fording streams feel damn near impossible. You forget that dreams exist, or they feel a million miles away. Sometimes the only way to rediscover who you are is to leave everything else behind, or start to peel away one layer at a time until you can see again. This requires it’s own sort of endurance, it’s own new space, it’s own struggle in the adventure.

So my truth is coming to the surface, the light is bright and hopeful but what do I do with all the lies? They are gone from my head but they hide in my heart. This my friends, is when you claim the battlecry…and you listen on repeat, on repeat, on repeat.

You call the Mother Superior in desperation for her to remind you of your own truth, you retreat to the abbey when you feel low, the sisters dismantle cars so the lies can’t follow you, and you sing Despite What you SEE, I have Confidence in ME!!! until your heart has no choice but to own and follow…

It tells me all I trust I lead my heart to
All I trust becomes my own
I have confidence in confidence alone
(Oh help!)

I have confidence in confidence alone
Besides which you see I have confidence in me!

Can you believe it’s available in a ringtone and my phone won’t support it? It’s a tragedy!

May your battlecry be all around today, may the Mother Superiors and sisters be plentiful, may your truth lead you…

This is how you tell your husband you are pregnant with your FOURTH child:

First, you stop on the way to a friend’s house to buy a pregnancy test which you then sneak into her bathroom. You can’t possibly wait until you get home to take it. Truth be told, you knew you were pregnant when you brushed your teeth that morning. The very second the toothpaste hit your mouth. “Awww, hell, I am definitely pregnant” was my exact inner dialogue.

You then text your husband from her bathroom:

Me: Hey, took a test. I’m pregnant.

Him: WOW!

Me: I know right? are you okay?

Him: yeah, i’m good. you okay?

Me: yeah, love you…catch ya later?

Him: love you too. sounds good. bye!

You then proceed with your lovely breakfast with said friends while in awe of yourself that you can actually keep your own secret.

Your husband laughs for a week. “A little baby? Can you believe that? It’s awesome.” with goofy grin and head shake.

You realize you have to do something about this man because he could have 10,000 babies, his biological clock will never stop ticking. It is the same thing you secretly love about him because while you never had any conversations to have any your children, you know the words were never necessary. For all your big talk about being DONE, there was a tiny part of your heart that couldn’t find total peace, he knew. But can the record show- there is NOW plenty of peace, a big ole’ pile a mile high, peace everywhere I turn, full, complete, done…

The kids were delirious…

Josiah: (shaking his head) I did not see this coming. It’s very exciting, has papa heard about this?

Jack: (squeals, in a muppet voice) Oh my gosh, oh my gosh…if we have a boy baby there will be 4 BOYS and only 2 girls!

Lucy: in her own world entirely…

So now I battle the ick- the morning sickness I have never had before- the kind that is constant and doesn’t go away. I have a new level of sympathy for all pregnant women. And please do not allow your mind to think it could possibly be twins, I’m choosing to go with the- your older, this is your 4th- explanation.

peace to all!!!

Kindness invaded Carytown and other stops around Richmond yesterday. Courtesy and in honor of a dear friend who passed away 2 years ago. I sometimes believe this girl might have packed a whole lifetime of living in 25 short years, and then I start to imagine what her next 60 could have been. She gave me the honor of walking the journey to her death, which was really when we became friends. So every birthday, and the day of her passing I do something I think she would have totally dug, things I wish we could have done together…

So this anniversary it was Starbucks love, my girl LOVED some starbucks. Even worked there for a stint.

I knew we had to spread some coffee/tea love…We (my whole crew) decided to jump in the car and leave gift cards all over the city. We left them on bus benches, the mirror at World of Mirth (josiah’s idea), public bathrooms, one of her favorite books at the bookstore, parks, telephone polls…etc. It was totally exhilarating as guerrillaness always is, we drove around like crazy seeing if we could catch someone looking or taking.

If you are feeling the kindness and coffee love this morning, pick up a card (we did $5 cards) and leave it in a public place with a note of who or what you are honoring today…maybe the finder will do the same.

this act was only possible because of some love to me from the Mother Superior (anne) and the other sisters but that is an entirely different post coming soon…

Heely’s bought us a ticket to the local patient first for our first broken arm.

Josiah didn’t actually lose in the whole deal. It was a very minor fracture, but he still got a cast/splint and sling for showing off.  Not to mention a cool sports related injury story.

BUT…..

Love won by a long shot- Last night before bed I said to the kids, “Quick, raise your hand if you miss papa.”

Me- one hand raised (as fast as i could)

Josiah -one hand up

Lucy- one hand up

Jack- both hands up waving wildly

I was so jealous I didn’t think of it because it’s exactly how I feel.

guerrilla kindness project- part duex

Whenever I think about Guerrilla Kindness, I immediately see a guy dressed in a cheesy gorilla suit handing out hearts, big red ones. I know, so silly- guerrilla/gorilla. I’ve thought about this so much that I’ve actually considered having the gorilla be the mascot for random kindness. I see little pencil line drawings of him hanging with one arm tightly around the Empire State Building while the other arm is full of hearts. Lord only knows what happens to the little blond Marilyn looking woman in all this.

Seriously though, today is the day. The day when I start my wonderful work of unveiling carefully hatched plans of spreading anonymous kindness in the world….except that, today is not the day. Partly because the little idea in my head just got bigger. Not Kong sized exactly, but big enough that I need more money and more time (both of which I am struggling to find at the moment). And to be perfectly honest, my heart and head are just not in the right frame of mind yet. What I’m learning is there is no need to rush. I just have to be. I believe it’s coming, everyday that I struggle it becomes a little clearer.

Thankfully, there are others who are much more together than I and are doing some lovely work in the world. If you are jonesin’ for a kindness high you will LOVE these people:

Hope Revolution – Krystyn had a really hopeful idea to spread kindness in unexpected places after a particularly sad day .

The idea caught on and a hope/kindness revolution was born. Check out the flickr pool.

Claudia at Everyday Kindness is doing big work in the blogosphere, it all started with her own personal commitment to do an act of kindness everyday. She started inviting friends to join her and this kindness maven discovered that a whole slew wanted to follow her.

Then the big dog- Emma over at ActsofKindness will pretty much make you swoon…her art…well, just check it out…

Happy Randoms Acts of Kindness Week!

I hope love finds you this Valentine’s Day…

whatever kind or brand you need

may it be bold and hit you over the head if required

may it be direct and practical if that is your native tongue

may it be flowery and ridiculous

may it be true and deep felt

may it be kind…

Shihan ( This type love ) – Def Poetry Jam

i know this love….

if you hold my hand, i can do it by myself.

a quote from a very wise 3 year old

Thanks Anne for your words (a hand) this morning…

our girl at age one

She is undeniably and unregrettably two. Her days are spent sauntering in princess high heels. She walks, sometimes even runs, with such ease. The heels being a grandparent gift of course, the tackier and princessier, the better. They are 2 sizes too big and 2 inches too tall.

Her charm and deep brown eyes render the men (and women) around her virtually powerless. Delight and joy follow her almost every where she goes. She radiates and expresses her love and gratefulness. It is self-confidence and independence combined with a sweet spirit that make her so alluring, it is this magic I study.

Puppies, dora, chocolate and long baths are her top priorities. If you suggest she is not allowed to have any one of these things, she responds in her best Scarlet O’Hara, “but WWWWHHHHYYYYY mama, why?” which is followed by an actual boo-hoo and huge quivering lower lip.

I am forever amazed by the patience the men in her life have with the occasional drama her development requires at this stage in her life.

I foolishly let Lucy and Jack play with a box full of packing peanuts yesterday. This childhood bliss covered the entire floor of our living room. Jack jumped right in with clean up efforts while Lucy couldn’t be bothered. After several invitations, strong suggesting, demanding, and mild yelling, she still had no intention of cleaning. My frustration lead to planting her firmly on the step followed by a speech about participating in a family that helps each other. I tell her that besides cleaning , she absolutely must apologize to Jackie for doing all her work. She immediately started wailing.

Jack calmly walked over and sat beside her.

“Lucy, I know you have a lot of love in your heart. It’s okay.” this is the boy who can always see the truest part of you. he pats her back…

she continues to bawl…

“Mom, I think she is ready to apologize to you.” he looks at Lucy, who obviously is not ready to apologize to anyone.

“Can I apologize for Lucy mom?”

I thank Jack for his kindness and politely refuse.

“I sorry Jackie.” she says quietly. She picks up one peanut.

“Mom, Lucy is trying to make amends.” he points out.

“Okay, I make a-mess.” she agrees. “I sorry mama.”

“I think we need a group hug.” Jack suggests.

“Thanks Jackie.” she says.

a guerilla kindness project coming 2.14.08…are ya in?

It was a cold winter morning, I could see my breath as I walked towards the local coffee shop. I pushed open the door to a warm rush and the clanging of the bell that hit the door letting the coffee girl know I had arrived. She was in a grouchy mood this morning, my cheerfulness didn’t help either. I didn’t really care as I was too excited about the chai latte she was handing me.

I sat down intending to write about Charles and the stranger experience of my life that happened only a week earlier in the very same spot but I got distracted. There was a woman sitting in front of me, she was very beautiful, the kind of beauty that causes you to look again and longer the second time.

It was her face that told her story so clearly. Her eyes held a deep sadness that acted like a window to her soul. Her partner sat beside her with a baby in his lap, the baby was equally as lovely but with a newness of hope.

I’m not sure why but I began to pray for her, I haven’t prayed in so long: …bring the light to the surface so she can see it today God, relieve her grief and help her to see the truth that lies before her. Send her hope, send her peace, help her to take it deep into her heart…

It took everything in me to not grab her hand and say, “It’s going to be okay…”. I sat thinking how crazy the whole exchange in my head was. How quickly people come and go, even strangers, and yet we are connecting if only for a minute. There is often no need to even speak. Why is it that in this little coffee shop it happens almost every time?
Some places are sacred and they don’t seem to know it. The couches are like pews where you kneel before a great altar (the altar in this case being the coffee table) to lay your burdens down. The communion is a bagel or brownie dipped in a simple cup of joe. You taste and see that the divine understands our brokenness.

I decided it really isn’t even about the couches, the table or the coffee, there is an invitation that resides in the walls. It is one to release the things inside that ail your soul or offer words of wisdom to another, maybe even a stranger. It’s the magic of holy places, and the truth that in the end, there are no strangers.

I was patient, even though I was tortured. I reminded myself that all blogs are born at exactly the right moment. Remember?

So I’m actually giddy to announce we can now all hear the lady in her head 
The universe  and now the blogosphere will be blessed with her presence. I’m so glad she decided not to hold out on us a second longer.

May this be just the beginning of many writing adventures, may your goodness and truth touch all who cross your path, may you claim the joy that is intended for you, may you feel deeply loved and whole…

please remind me in 10 years about these conversations with Jack:

I made a lovely cheesecake for Jack’s birthday the other day, only it was like 2 weeks late.

Me: I’m so sorry Jackie-boy  it took me so long to make your birthday cake.

Jack: It’s okay mom.

Josiah: Mom, you said you were gonna make it and you did.

Me: Thanks guys…

Jack: We always forgive mom.

Our 5 year old neighbor came in singing “We’re not gonna take it…”. There’s nothin’ like a little Twisted Sister on a Wednesday afternoon.  I started singing as we were making cookies together.

Jack: What is that song about?

Me: I think it’s about some kids that got sick of their parents. They just couldn’t take it anymore. Do you think that could ever happen to us?

Jack: No, we’re a team mom.

Bedtime:

He was weepy before bedtime because he couldn’t find the birthday card my mom and dad sent him. He had it tucked in between the grate and the mattress of the upper bunk. The treasured card replaced an old dream catcher we made together he had hanging in that spot. He said he didn’t need it anymore because the card meant his marmie and opa were close.

This child *sigh*….

I’ve been making a lot of assumptions about kindness lately. Like who should be her friends, who should tell her stories and how she should live her life. I’ve been trying to give her an out in our friendship, deciding there is someone better for her. She will hear none of this, her mother gentleness told her to hang in there quietly with me and I would eventually see the light.

I’ve been noticing new things, things I haven’t seen before about her, about myself. The word revolution has been following her around lately. I like this because it means people are starting to believe in her power. I’m not sure she is your typical revolution though. Maybe she is the quiet kind.

She’s always there, but sometimes you have to look for her, she can hide in unexpected places or be right in front of your nose.  You can take her or give her, she’s available to all and endless. Her acts can be small but have great impact. Sometimes she shouts from the rooftops and other times she is only a faint whisper in your ear. She finds the best places in your soul and shines them brightly. She isn’t flashy or showy, she is simple and pure. She’s happiest when you are just yourself. She lends freedom and hope.  She can not be controlled, she just is.

I’m glad she will never give up on me. I hold her close and yet have never been happier to give her away.

inspired by these cool people…

highs:

1. reveling in a new writing project with a great partner while drinking the best chai latte of my life

2. meeting a complete stranger who listens to your personal crisis of the moment and asks the question, “so what are you going to do, are ya gonna step up or step aside?”

3. snow- even if it doesn’t stick. lucy’s delight is enough…

lows:

1. a dear friend experiencing deep grief in her heart.

2. feeling exhausted from trying to sort out my entire life in a day

3. one late nap which means a late bedtime for a busy little girl

highs and lows anyone else?

Here is a list of things I have learned in the last month of my work:

1. I am NOT the mother of the world. This is a huge relief…

.
2. Why is my first thought to send this to the fire vicitms? It’s taken 3 speeches from Jorge that sending FIRE is not a good idea after you’ve had one that has destroyed EVERYTHING. It’s just that the candle is so damn hopeful, I can’t help it.

3. I’ve been doing a lot of drop-it-off-at-the-door and run away kindness work lately. I think it’s because I’m scared to intrude on someone when they are having a hard time. I’m unsure I will be or say the right things. This is crazy, I’ve had some cues lately that people actually want to talk to me. Who knew?

4. I’ve been day dreaming about having a kindness worker’s conference. Any one that knows me would be shocked I’m thinking such thoughts as I am pretty much a hermit about this stuff. I’m starting to think people might even come.

5. Lots of people want to give money to the kindness fund, I get offers pretty regularly now. I don’t know what to do with this exactly. Usually words like non-profit and grants started swirling around and then my throat starts to swell. I immediately start to give short speeches on how I don’t really want to answer to anyone, and how much I hate non-profit politics, and oh-my-god, you have to have a board, blah, blah, blah…

6. I’m starting to learn how to avoid places that invite more work when I need to rest and regroup. The phone still rings and e-mails pop up but I’m getting better at navigating and requiring rest.

7. I might not be as much of a loner as I originally thought. I’ve been working with people, dear people lately. It’s been quite lovely. They have rallied with me and taken my load, or shared our collective kindness opportunities I should say. They are rich with wisdom and have generously given all they have (even hair highlights). I think I ended up the winner, feeling loved and blessed.

I can’t wait for my dear friend Sarah to run the Kindness Talent Agency- she’s such a rock star, she has the skills to grow the circle.

8. One last thing….thank you to the lady in your head (you know who you are), your friendship and wisdom means more than you know.

I spent the weekend traveling by myself, the myself part being important as I can’t remember the last time I walked through an airport without a baby on my hip or carrying 2 more bags than my body wanted.

I always prefer to travel with my family because the morbid side of me always outweighs the logical/sane part. We’ve only flown together as a unit so we can all die together should we happen to go down in a fiery blaze. Thankfully I arrived home safely, no plunging to death for me today.

My trip took me to LA to help my sister debut her fabulous t-shirt line at a Golden Globes Celebrity Swag Party called the Boom Boom Baby Room. LA was not ready for her, she definitely mixed up and made a splash.

The hotel was amazing and sleek. The penthouse and 18^th floor squared off with security men dressed in black suits and little ear pieces. I prepared by getting highlights, push-up bras and rock star clothes. I felt glamorous but the simple girl in me is far from LA.

The vendors were like hungry lions pacing for the prey. The set-up was like peeing on your territory, everyone vying for the best spot and view. There was a mild desperation in the room, but this can only come from weeks of all nighters like the college days, except there is no sleeping till noon.

They are mothers, entrepreneurs and business women hoping to delight someone with their idea, be the hot new swag on the block, get discovered. I mean, Welcome to Hollywood, what’s your dream?

We used the magic our mother taught us on the territorial feel in the room. We started helping the other vendors, offered words of support and encouragement, basically we won the Miss Congeniality award. The best part is the magic works every time and the vibe in the room was completely turned on it side, we became the party room.

The magazines, tv people and stars started trickling in. They carried bags and bags of free stuff, more things than you can even imagine. $11,000 worth.

They look more regular with their kids by their sides or in strollers except this is anything but normal. It’s a weird exchange of giving yourself, sometimes even your kid for well, stuff. The kids look tired and ask to not take any more pictures. The parents look weathered, like the end of the day after Christmas shopping in the craziest mall in town. The parents promise to go home but still have to be so “on”. Some are gracious, some are rude.

The vendors are overly personal and persistent, asking for pictures and endorsements. They constantly measure who is “somebody” and who is a “nobody”. It’s all part of the exchange, both parties signed on.

I watch my sister from the corner of the room.

There are hardly any pictures taken with her, she forgets to ask for business cards, she gets lost in real conversations of parenting, she loads their arms with t-shirts hoping they get the one they like the best. She doesn’t know who anyone is, she has made no judgment as to who is worthy of what. I am so proud. Her heart is like a little light, she is magic.

Even still, I found myself standing barefoot in front the the Pacific ocean and weeping. I guess I was wishing it could be another way. Wishing that kindness could be the currency that each human exchanges…

Everyone is walking around in circles at our house, it’s a small house so we keep bumping into each other. The New Year’s start-of-something-new magic has not yet hit. No one knows exactly where to start.

Except Lucy of course, because she never really stopped. A dear friend told her she was a rock star at the New Year’s Eve party,  she’s been proclaiming it ever since. “RockSTAR!” she says on repeat. Never have truer words been spoken. The kid’s dream schedule is party till 1 am and sleep until 11:00pm. I’m almost embarrassed to say she’s been living her dream all holiday break.

Jack suggested I clean the dishes for his upcoming birthday. The laundry has overtaken the hall. Jorge conducted a big family meeting to brainstorm on how we can work this problem of slothdom out. The kids suggested everyone pick up 3 things and take it to their room. I chimed in it might just work if there were like 100 people in our family. So…we upped the number a bit and made some plans. maybe even resolutions.

Shortly after the meeting, Jorge went to the office to surf, Josiah and Jack went to play legos and I retreated to my bed to read Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. Let’s just say the resolutions start tomorrow….

Ladder for Booker T. Washington by Martin Puryear

Spontaneity is one of my most favorite qualities in a man. Jorge surprised with me with a day trip to NYC for Christmas. The financial worrier in me was quieted by the anticipation and thrill of being surrounded by tall buildings, the best museums and restaurants, and my hand securely interlocked with my other’s.

It was a little like country mouse does the big city. Neither of us had been in over 15 years (maybe 20 for me) so we wandered in awe like first timers. I was amazed my the sheer amount of people that cross the street together, it felt like we were caught in a rushing water. The energy of so many so close, all positive and negative charges of emotion and thought. My sensors were in overload, especially my spidey sense for people’s feelings. It was an unexpected rush.

I spent half the day just looking up at the height of every tower, cathedral and building. I tried so hard to take it all in, the people, the shopping, the food, …but it was the art that got me. The lines were long at MoMA but we were stellar in our planning so nothing felt too long and being alone with out 3 children made everything seem fast and easy.

I had no idea MoMA would feel so sacred. We walked into the main foyer to an exhibit of Martin Puryear’s work. There were a million reasons to love this artist. He worked in Sierra Leone with the peace corps, his organic material and views about his work, his eyes.

My favorite by far was

The Ladder for Booker T. Washington

Here is what he had to say about it:

“Putting your buckets down where you are and working with what you’ve got.”

I can so relate to Washington’s views and struggles as my heart often chooses harmony, peace, and a gentle way to change. This path is slow and long. I can only imagine how frustrated DuBois was and how freedom ultimately required both men’s vision and work.

It turns out the title was an after thought so I was dreaming up my own interpretation and meanings for this amazing piece art.

I stared up at Mr. Puryear’s ladder, not wanting to leave the spot. It was so fucking inspiring. (sorry mom, but there are no other words to describe it)

It took every thing in me to not try to climb it myself. It felt hopeful, like if you wanted to reach the clouds or sky it was only up to your arms and legs to get you there. It was so tall and crooked, as if he understood my own path to becoming the me I want to be.

I am occasionally tortured by the how the ladder is curved and that the rails get smaller. My soul still doubts I can reach whatever is at the top, if there is a top or if that is even the point in the first place. Yet I still am working with what is right in front of me, slowly changing each day, inching towards something higher and greater, even if it is only a new view.*

So I imagine where is the ladder taking me today? in 2008? And what bucket is lying right around me?

Feel free to imagine the heights and destinations of your ladder in the comments.

Today for me my friends, it’s Juno. Yes, a movie. No big philosophical answer. Just this mother/friend/kindness worker sitting in the dark eating rasinets. Maybe there will be bigger ideas and enlightened answers tomorrow…

p.s. Clay– I thought about you and Mary at MoMA so much- I could just see the babies in sculpture on the 3rd floor.

Happy New Year to all!

peace,

j & p

*While I’m sure this might not be the interpretation the artist intended, I am grateful for Mr. Puryear’s gift of art today.

Getting out of a funk sometimes requires the kindness of both one who knows your heart and one who will only hold it for a brief moment in a grocery store aisle.

My dad called late last night but I didn’t see the call. His voicemail was the perfect message- initial chit-chat about the weather, then empathy, closing with encouraging words. I needed his particular brand of kindness, a pure and true heart. It’s the kind you wish you could you could keep in your pocket and play every other day to remind you how goodness can heal your soul.

I wandered the grocery aisles after his call searching for comfort food. A very old black woman (she looked in her late 80’s) with a long dress, black coat and teal hat was chatting with strangers in the pasta aisle.

“I just love people, I like the white people. It’s because of Jesus I’m so happy. I mean that’s why he died on the cross isn’t it?” she said.

I nodded and smiled.

“How are you honey?” she says.

“I’m okay, I’ve been better I guess.” I say.

“Are you sick?” she says with a wrinkled brow.

“No, just a little sad.” I say. I have no idea why these words are coming out of my mouth. Maybe I could not lie to her old mother eyes.

“Oh, you look tired. You are young and strong, but you need to rest. You should rest. You work hard don’t you?”

“I do, I think you are right, I do need to rest.” I nod. “When you get home would you say a little prayer for me?” It felt shocking and completely comfortable at the same time.

“Oh yes I will. I knows how to pray honey, I knows how to pray. And one more thing, your hair is beautiful. I always tell the white girls- never cut that pretty hair.” Practical advice infused with the divine.

“I won’t. Thank you. Have a happy new year!” I say as I start to walk away.

“Thank you honey. You too.”

How can you not feel better after an encounter with a random old wise woman who is probably going senile? and a dad that for all the mistakes he ever made in his life will leave a legacy of a deep love…and a good message.

Have you ever had a Christmas that was just complicated and hard? I come from a family of amazing, dynamic people. Most people have only one of these types per family, we have several. When any one of my 3 sisters enters a room she owns it immediately, it has been this way as long as I can remember.

And the sibling love, it’s the I’ll-scratch-your-eyes-out if you ever hurt her sort of ferocious kind. It’s a ball of strong personalities, independence, creativity and a little madness all rolled into one. All of this energy makes my family special and exhausting at the same time, holidays seem to heighten each person’s dysfunctional role. (mine included)

I found myself saddened this year, wishing some things were different, wishing I were different…I’m forever trying to sort it out in my head. So for all that are feeling torn and a little bit relieved that tomorrow is not Christmas, I am eating chocolate in your honor tonight.

I hope your Christmas was simple and full of peace…

kindness girl

The last day or two have been very blue around our house. My attempts to rest while I’m on my vacation from the store haven’t exactly worked out. It seemed other things crept in, some good, some draining.

It was one of those days where Lucy tantrumed ALL day long. Our weather proof jackets were slippery so every flailing, throw-back-of-the-head ended up with me holding her by one arm while she slid down my body. Lovely, I know. The boys fought through the afternoon and then I ended the night at a meeting where I huddled in a back room trying to get my kids to cooperate.

Grouchy, abhorrent children aside, a dark cloud rolled in to hang over our house. This dark cloud of course being money, actually the lack of…. budgets, our little house going up for sale in the dead of winter, property taxes, insurance payments…you get the idea. Recycle Christmas was great, representing 70% of our gifts but somehow the joy of giving the other 30% got derailed and headed straight for Christmas disaster. This left everyone feeling low.

In the middle of the Christmas crisis, I got a kindness call which is a weird rescue of sorts. It always puts whatever troubles I have into perspective. On my way to the call, I stopped to pick something up and saw a nail place close by. I decided if I couldn’t afford hair highlights this Christmas, I certainly could afford a quick eyebrow wax. I walked in and a lovely Asian women asked me to sit down.

Me: How are you today?

Woman: Oh just terrible!

Me: Oh dear, I’m so sorry! What is wrong?

Woman: It’s been a terrible year.

Me: Do you think it can get better?

With that she rips the first strip and then the second, then she hands me the mirror.

I try not to gasp.

Woman: No, I don’t think so.

I try to listen sympathetically while I look at what is left of my eyebrow- oh my God, I look like a cancer patient!

Me: Well, this is not good. (her life, not the eyebrow.)

Woman: You like? (while she holds up the mirror)

Me: Yes, thank you. (I lie, what good is it now? and besides, she looks troubled)

Me: Well, please tell me your name, I will light a candle for you when I get home. I’m so sorry things are not good, but I am going to hold onto hope for you that maybe it can get better okay?

Woman: Yes, thank you ma’aam. Thank you miss….

So if you come across a woman with 5″ roots showing and pencil thin eyebrows looking a little blue, it’s probably me. The good news is that hair and eye brows grow, candles hold prayers, there are good girlfriends who listen to tearful phone calls about my vanity, kindness reigns and money is just money, it can’t hold you at night.

p.s. check this guy out- i love this post and call to action!

Josiah: Jackie-boy, do you know in old cartoons they NEVER hit girls and stuff? Do you know why?  it’s because they are classy.

Jack: Oh…

Josiah: And in cartoons, everything is more fun. You would really love being in a cartoon.

Oh my lord, my life is a cartoon. I knew that one episode of Tom and Jerry was a mistake….

1. The post office almost seemed like Cheers today. Sam, the postal worker, was chatting with various regulars. He told me how to package differently to save a few dollars and graciously waited while I repacked an entire box.

Older gentlemen and grandmothers smiled at babies in car seats while harried mothers put packages together during the long wait in the line. Lucy sang Jingle Bells at the top of her lungs while I promised Jack this would be the last trip for a long time. This small hope got him through.

I just like the feel of cardboard packages and envelopes in my hand. Someone dear will get to open a tiny treasure soon. The surprise kind are the best.

2. Gracie the dog came to spend a few nights with us while her family is away. She wants to cuddle like a cat, all 95lbs. of her but she’s gentle like a dear old girl. She could possibly be the nicest dog I have EVER met in my ENTIRE life. The kids are beside themselves- all the kids, in the whole neighborhood. It was the best Christmas treat.

3. There has been a fire in my fireplace almost every other night. You might remember from this how long I have been waiting for the fire miracle.

4. The Christmas altar is a little bare or maybe just simple this year. Jack came to me one day and held up a lego creation he had made.

“Mom, do you know why I made this Lego?”

“No buddy, why?”

“Because I want Chlistmas (christmas) to be special, you can put this on our altar if you want.”

I went out later and came home to about 8 more tiny creations on the mantle. Candles and legos, maybe that’s all you need.

5. A Julie Andrews Christmas- I’ve been torturing my family by making them listen to various artist’s versions of Christmas music ALL the time. Yesterday it was Julie Andrews…We needed the grandeur only Julie can bring while spinning on the top of some mountain in Austria. During my best falcetto impersonation of Ms. Andrews on the way to school Josiah said,

J:” Mom, do you know what you should do?”

Me:”What?”

J:”You should join a singing contest mom!”

Jack: ” You really should mom, I think you could win!”

Me and Julie, here we come American Idol…

6. Fairy Godmothers have been visiting me with gifts of fruit on the steps at my back door, neighbors who offer to babysit at the last moment before crisis, massages and friendships forged by tears over breakfast.

It’s Christmas Kindness…

7. Kindness work- the kindness calls have been coming in pretty regularly lately. So many stories, lots of hope floating around even in the darkest moments. Peace on earth, goodwill to men…

Christmas is hard, I hope tiny miracles cross your path this season…feel free to share any in the comments.

Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium

If ever a movie has undone me, it was this one. Maybe it is the particular stage of development I am in or the state of my soul, but I needed this movie. It all seems to be attached to becoming kindness girl. It was almost too much to even write about so I’ll leave you to decide for yourself.

What I know is this-Kindness work is growing and spreading, I see everyone around me practicing their own brand and way. It is magic…..and maybe even a revolution.

This week has found me dressed in crisp white shirts and tailored black pants. My dear friend Windsor got me a job working as a caterer’s assistant by night, it’s one of my many jobs right now to get us through this crazy time. I’m also delighted by the fact that I’ll be old someday telling stories of the 1,000 different jobs I experienced. It’s like the old man at parties that tells about how he traveled with the circus as a young man or something. Not that catering is at all like being a trapeze artist (well, it can get a little loopy) but I hope I get to try a a bit of everything in my time.

It often feels like an honor to be at someone’s special event, like serving the cake that is the sweetest end to the day you promised to be with your beloved forever or listening to speeches from the top of the stairs in celebration of the birth of your wife so many years ago. ….and then there are days when it’s simply about pure decadence and wealth. Yesterday was my funniest experience with such a crowd. We were catering for high tea to 200 women from the local women’s club. These were probably the wealthiest women in my city all gathered together in one place. I have never seen so many big hairdo’s, fur stolls, and brightly colored suits in my life.

I passed the yummiest hor dourves and nodded my head graciously as the women accepted or rejected my offer. The oldest ladies in the room were painfully polite while the older women occasionally (actually) turned up their noses. I found myself completely taking in this crowd like I was observing some rare bird in the wild. I then realized I had been spontaneously giving curtsies to the last five women I’d encountered.

I ran back to the kitchen where Rose was washing dishes. Rose is a lovely african american women who was dressed in a maid’s uniform and has served these women for many years. She laughed as I told her my story of my subconscious response to perceived royalty while we scraped dishes together. “Look at this….”, she said. We chuckled at the brightest red lipstick print on the china tea cup you have ever seen. I imagine Rose has many more stories and I wished I could have stayed by her side for a little while longer. I realized I’ve always preferred the company of the kitchen.

Jack (4) and Josiah (7) are in the other room building robots for the Christmas altar. I know, it doesn’t exactly work next to Mary and the donkey but robots are seriously meaningful around here these days.

Jack: Josiah! You speak robot?

Josiah: yeah…

Jack: I did not know that about you, I speak puppy. and sometimes hamster.

Josiah: wow!

Guest Blogger: my dear friend Kelly

I’ve been tortured for quite some time now by my dear friend Kelly. Ever so often she will send me something she’s written or I get an incredibly witty e-mail from her. I’ve begged and pleaded for her to start a blog but this isn’t the time. I do however, have faith that all blogs are destined to be born at the just the right moment. I promise the universe will be shining on us with Kelly’s.

Kelly and I share a love for birth and kindness work. She is a true sister….When we aren’t dreaming up books to write together, or when Kell isn’t shrinking me, we can be found in my living room trying to protect Caleb (kelly’s sweet boy) from being sprayed by Lucy and her water bottle.

(this piece is followed by a beautiful home birth photo)

Light from the Shadows

For almost a year now, I’ve had pictures of Caleb’s birth quietly stored on my computer. I’ve never printed them and I’ve never done anything with the ones that inexplicably turned out black. Every once in a while I scroll through them. And sweat. Just looking at them makes it feel like it’s about 500 degrees in our house. Uh-huh, my labor was a wee bit intense.

The black ones have always haunted me.

“Nothing can be done with them,” Jay said to me. “Why are you keeping them?” I could never explain why. I just wanted them.

My labor was pretty fast and our doula, who was taking the pictures, sometimes had other things to do at the birth (imagine). Like trying to help me stop hyperventilating (yeah, I was a little scared when what felt like a 42” television was coming out of my cooter).

The one time I cussed during the whole labor was during the darkest hour—on hands-and-knees on our bedroom floor, 10 cm. dilated, my midwife behind me, a maelstrom of energy bringing my baby down, and me descending into a bizarre, condensed reliving of all the desperate feelings of my lonely, messed up girlhood—and our doula and Jay were futzing around with the camera trying to figure out why it had spontaneously started taking black pictures. “Put. The. Fucking. Camera. Down.”

In the last eleven-and-a-half months, I have often looked at those black pictures, squinting, tilting my head. “Is that? My? Ass?” I was engaged in this very exercise the other day when it occurred to me to use my photo editor to brighten the photos.

Now People. Why it took almost a year to have this bright idea (no pun intended) is quite clear: I, who was once an intelligent and relatively competent human being was, upon the conception of my son, struck with a tragic condition called Motherhood-Induced Mental Retardation. So please be kind.

Retardation notwithstanding, perhaps it was the brilliant universe, and her impeccable sense of timing, that kept those pictures enshrouded until a day that just might have been the most gorgeous day in the history of the world—stunning autumn smiling, her leaves impossibly beautiful in afternoon sun that was almost singing it was so happy—a day so generous, how could anything stay hidden?

I could barely breathe as I watched each photo become what it always was. “Dar a Luz,” I said under my breath, as one picture’s dark veil slowly lifted. It’s Spanish for “Childbirth,” and means, literally, “Give to Light.” It was a picture of that darkest hour. Given, finally, to light.