Guardian angels

Pray for me! That I will know where I am truly called. You gaze upon the face of the Father? How do you do that ? Meditate? Icon gaze? Show me the way!!

wednesday, October 2nd, 2013

what do I do now/ pray.... return to the Source. My Source. Guardian Angel be present to me... and then came a text from Tommy: "live life to the fullest, folks!" ... and what does that look like? it means: getting to work, to bring healing and love to the world. Show me the way, Holy Spirit!!

thoughts on CPE

It is becoming clear... oh so slowly... but honestly, that our children do not need me to be available to them 24/7 for emotional support. I have for a long time placed myself on alert in the event that they needed me, I would be available.. somehow afraid that if I turned my attention to something else, that I would not be able to attend to them, IF they called on me. in the meantime, I've tried to amuse myself with other activities... to fill up my day with meaningful, productive, peaceful activities. Swimming, women's groups, mass, shopping, food prep, home maintenance and creation, maintaining extended family connections, always praying for the boys when they come to mind. I would worry to myself: wow, if I were working even part time, but especially full time, how would I get all this stuff done. If the car needed maintenance or there were jury duty... I sit here at home after Costco shopping and realize that Pete enjoys shopping... let him do it!! I could be using some of my gifts and finding meaning in that instead of just biding my time. Next step? talk to the CPE people at Alta Bates...

today, smells, textures, feelings, sounds...

I think I'll recall the experience I had as a little girl of the sound of the B52's coming in to land and take off from Columbus AFB in 1960-1963. When I was little my father served in the USAF as a B52 navigator. He flew "alert" and would be gone for some period of time and would fly missions through the air of North America mostly as I understand it. He would come home, always, and life would go on. Sometimes, and I really don't know how often, my mother would take us down to the flight line and we would stand by our car and watch the planes come and go. It was a memorable experience. The planes themselves were huge and they made a frighteningly loud noise... rumbling really and one of power, the likes of which I'd never heard in my short life before. It was overwhelming... the sound being as powerful to my being as seeing Yosemite from the valley floor for the first time. We were enveloped in this rumbling, all encompassing sound, above which no voice could be heard and hardly any other thought could be sustained as it consumed all of ones attention.  Beneath and beyond all of the sensation of this experience was the awareness that "that was our daddy in that plane" and "daddy is coming home". This is one of the earliest memories I have of sound. For many years the sight of a big military plane and the sound of its rumble would evoke a warm, secure feeling in my chest... I am safe because my daddy is home. Unfortunately, the specter of the 9/11 airplanes supplanted that association and I have to dig a little deep to recall that early experience and that early innocent surety.

saturday, September 21, last day of summer or first day of fall

Pete and I said goodbye to our John again today.. as he left for his junior year of college at the University of California at Santa Cruz. He was really ready to go more than a week ago, but he had received faulty information. He couldn't actually move in a week early as he'd been told. So, he had to cool his heels and spend another week at home. He made good use of the time... doing a little more work for his grandfather, and for us and for his aunt and uncle. He made a little more money and was able to pay off his car insurance and the television he bought for his dormitory. I love John. because he brings such depth and sincerity and peace to my world. I am so so lucky to know him and to be his mother. All of our boys are precious loving people. This summer gave me such a wonderful LOT of time to spend with John and to talk and to share and get to know eachother. Thank you, thank you, thank you for this time with him. It was golden.

spirituality of motherhood

Give it up!! Give it UP! Give IT up!! Under what illusion am I functioning where I think that I can live my own life? that I can sail through life unaffected by the lives of others ... and somewhere along the line, the world has succeeded in sending me the message that I have control over my own life.. that I can choose everything... what school I go to, what car I buy, what food I eat and how I'm going to spend my days... nothing else in life I don't think so undermines that myth than motherhood... from the moment of conception (ask a mother if life begins at conception?) until you finally die, your life is not YOUR OWN ever again. You are inhabited from within for 9 mos. and then your heart is attached permanently and superglued to another human life for EVER. I was telling someone today that I understand that a pregnant or nursing mother's brain is chemically changed... I believe it's Christianne Northrup who writes about this in one of her books... that the hormones that allow for the sustenance of another's life (in utero or thru breastfeeding)... alters the brain of the mother such that she finds herself more forgetful and not as able to think in the same way she did before. Its as if Nature says .. oh no you don't!! ... you can't move so fast AWAY from this baby.. this fact of this life being dependent on you! ... it's nature ways of assuring that you are THERE for the baby. The conflict comes if and when this pregnant woman or this new mother acts as if she were her old self.... it can be a rude shock to discover that, oh, the energy isn't there for evenings out with friends or the breast milk still flows even if the baby's not with me to slurp it up. WE can not be all things still.... we can be OURSELVES... but we MUST be mother! This new truth is a full body and full person reality.

my new book from pete for Easter

What can happen in a second:
a kiss, a blink, a flick of a switch, a petal falls, a bird alights, a star falls, a dog barks, a heart beats, .. anything can happen in a second. Most of things happen in a response to something set in motion long ago and how we go with the flow determines if things happen at al.. or if we impede that flow of life. Sometimes I wish I could be a hobo.. just walking the roads and hearkening to the demands of the moment. Looking for food, a bathroom, water, a friend. Looking at the cars going by or the fields to my left or right.. I love being on the way.. on our way.. somewhere , almost anywhere. Just going. Why in this day and age as fast as most things travel, information, people in plains, trains and automobiles could moving still be compelling or attractive? Much of the time, I wish that things were moving more slowly. Stop!! but truth be told, life is still movement to me... walking, riding, rowing, talking, sharing... and so what could happen in a second? something or nothing. and I'd prefer the something in this moment. Heart beating, washer washing, quilting, mending, staging, creating, capturing a moment.. I love the moment, but I love the moment that is promised just beyond the moment. Today, Pete said that he's appreciative of this day to "exhale" after the Triduum... and I agree with him. It is such a gift to have this moment to exhale.. and that can happen in a second.. or several.

March 14, 2013 Thursday

I can hear from my chair inside my house the heavy machinery at work on my street as the utilities are being under grounded in my neighborhood. The team has been working for months now and it appears that they have done all the work below ground and now they are re paving the street to look like new. These men who wear the bright yellow green vests and hardhats have been digging, with shovels and earth movers and scraping and sweeping through the cool of the winter months. Now it's warming up and I see them donning sun protection... one man had created a cardboard brim measuring about a foot on all four sides to fit over his hardhat. People are clever. Yesterday, as I waited for the one open lane to open up for me so that I could drive to my house, I shared with the flag man about our new pope. I thought twice about sharing the news. I was still exhilarated after watching the live reports from Rome as our new pope appeared on the balcony to all of us! What if this flagman didn't know what a pope was or didn't care? I went ahead and asked him if he'd heard about the new pope? He showed an interest and so, I told him. He wondered right away: was he an Italian? Well, sorta. His father was an Italian immigrant to Argentina. The flagman perked up... and then I said, and guess what name he chose? "FRANCIS." He's the first Pope Francis! I said. The flagman smiled and said... "cool." and he smiled and nodded again "I like that." Viva el papa!!  

January 2, 2013

Behold, another blessed day is about to end. The sun is sinking in the sky, the shadows are lengthening and I am sitting in a cooling house blessed with a new lamp sent by Anne and Jim... it is beautiful. Colorful, gentle light and a fun shape... whose home is to be decided yet. Thank you Anne and Jim! It is a joyful reminder to stay in the LIGHT. HELp me to return again and again to the image given to me in my meditation on Christmas of the tiny face of the Christ child as it looks up from his necessary crib... he can not hold his head up.. all he can do is shine, glowing with new life and hope and love. Perhaps that is the msg of the dream the other night: I dreamt that I was nursing a newborn who was, as I describe at the end of the dream, not thriving. I must create a place, a world where that newborn can thrive.. where the light, the hope and the love offered by this fragile, but incomprehensibly alive newborn can find sustenance and comfort. HOw can I sustain this fragile ecosystem? Stay rooted in prayer. I was able to pray this morning before the nativity set in my room... worried that the words won't penetrate or stay with me.. but my hope is that it will be taken in and will feed me even when I'm not paying attention. The newborn within seeks a loving home... keep working to create a space where the newborn can survive, even thrive, no?