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Mine   Leave a comment

I find many of the greatest frustrations I face involve projects or meetings or relationships which don’t turn out the way I have in mind.  When I have a project, I want it done right.  I have a vested interest in making it work well after all, because my name’s on it.

Maybe you’re a gardener.  Perhaps you’re having a real problem this year with Japanese beetles destroying your roses and blackberries. You’re doing everything you can to get those pests off the plants.  But the outcome is iffy because there are so many of them!  Your yard doesn’t look like you want it to and you’re the one who has to figure out a solution.

You may be walking your child through some new era in his life–getting ready for the college application process, learning to drive, overcoming a mental health issue or navigating hurdles at a job.  You’ve put uncounted months and years into helping your child.  You have a major interest in the outcome.  And you want that outcome to be one that is good.  Bottom line is, you feel responsible.  After all, this is your child.

Here’s where I think the English language falls short.

 

Can you think of a word to replace “my” in any of these phrases?

My house

My garden

My project

My ambition

My work

My child

My career

My health

My life

 

I haven’t been able to think of one yet.

What other word should there be, though, when I am the one doing the work to maintain the health, well-being and success of any of the above?

 

The problem is that I have confused responsibility with ownership.

I’m not the owner–I’m just the steward.

 

Posted July 18, 2017 by swanatbagend in identity, reality

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Now   Leave a comment

For the past year, I’ve been telling myself I would have time to research and do advocacy about _fill in the blank_ when I’m done with the work I have to do today.

For the past five years, I’ve been telling myself my vision would get better when I got my thyroid medication regulated.

For the past ten years, I’ve been telling myself that after we are done with our school year, it will be summer, and summer will be totally and completely relaxing and things will be much less busy.

For the past fifteen years, I’ve been telling myself that if I just invested a bit more in the relationship or found the magic key to the person’s heart, that the relationship would be different.

For the past twenty years, I’ve been telling myself my fatigue would be resolved once I found the right combination of medication/diet/exercise/reduced busyness and stress.

 

I’m going to be turning fifty this Saturday.  I think I need to adjust my expectations.

 

I think what is really going on is that…

The sheer number of hours in a day is not going to expand nor will the problems people have decrease.

My vision is not going to get better.

Summer will continue to be busier than expected for the foreseeable future.

The relationship is not going to change.

I am not going to find a therapy or treatment that will completely solve my fatigue.  Some factors will get better, some will get worse, some won’t change.

And what I know now is

this is reality.

And–this is OK.

 

 

 

Posted July 13, 2017 by swanatbagend in reality

Stopping Time   Leave a comment

If only we could, we think.

If only we had the power to pause things right here, now, in this golden moment, when everything is perfect.

Haven’t you had moments like that?

I feel like, if I could just concentrate hard enough, just enjoy an afternoon fully enough, it would at least slow time down.  Or if I laugh louder when with friends, which is not hard to do, maybe that would make the evening be ten hours instead of just three.

It seems like it should be possible, but it never is.

I’ve tried a hundred times–but I never can.  Time only stops for a few seconds at a time, and it’s never me who stops it.  It always resumes and flows on toward the future.

What would it be like to be outside of time?

I guess, soon enough, we’ll know.

Posted July 11, 2017 by swanatbagend in reflections

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Is your name Luigi?   Leave a comment

It’s not?

Are you sure?

The way you weave in and out of traffic, I wonder.

You changed lanes, pulling ahead of me through a closing, narrow gap between me and the semi-trailer just ahead to my left.  I’m not sure what your hurry is.

It seems like your rule when wanting to pass someone is that you should never have to touch the brake.  Keeping your cruise control engaged at all times is essential to the safety of your convenience.  You approach me from behind when I’m in the left lane, doing my best to pass the semi-trailer on my right in an expedient fashion, but unwilling to drive 85 miles per hour in these weather conditions.  Then you stay two molecules from my rear bumper.

Have you never been rear ended?

And then once you pass me you pull in immediately, so that I have no safe following distance.

Or, if I have left following distance in heavy traffic, you assume my following distance is your opening.  When you slip in there, thus allowing me .25 seconds for my vehicle to come to a full stop at highway speeds should you need to stop, you defy the laws of physics.

I promise, when I run into you, your vehicle will not reform in 3 seconds and continue happily down the track while Yoshi and Mario pass by.

Posted July 7, 2017 by swanatbagend in pet peeves

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Shared   Leave a comment

I was thinking about spending time with my kids recently.  Of course we’re together a lot since we homeschool.  But as far as down time, hanging out, what we like to talk about–that made me realize that I enjoy interests in common with each one of my three children.

I mean, maybe the deal is you learn to love what your kids share with you, right? at least some of the time, you can’t help it, because of their enthusiasm and because you hear about it all the time.  That’s what happened to me with amphibians.  I was not into frogs in any way as a child.  But because of my kids I have learned to love them and I enjoy catching glimpses of them outside and yes, I enjoy catching them.

I’ve learned to appreciate Transformers, movies I wouldn’t have noticed without the kids telling me, archery, and maybe Nerf guns.   Maybe.

And of course there are the interests the kids have that I still don’t have, though I hope I listen well.

But aside from all these, I have interests in common with each one of them that I had before they were ever conceived and I love that.

Insects.  Drawing.  Writing.  Art.  Star Trek.  Astronomy.  Dave Barry.  Star Wars.

We’d be in the same tribe, even if we weren’t.

 

Perseverance   Leave a comment

I’ve been thinking recently about how much I admire my 16 year-year-old daughter. In the struggles she has in her life, she doesn’t let them take over so much that she becomes unkind to the people around her. She has gone from being a beginning archer in an unfamiliar sports environment to an outstanding archer who performs consistently in the 270s out of 300 points. She takes on new challenges in areas where she is not naturally comfortable and I’m thinking of 2-year-old nursery duty where she serves weekly at our church. The children have learned to love her so much. She has gone from being so quiet that other girls and leaders in scouts could not hear her speak, to delivering all kinds of lines for all kinds of characters who are nothing like her in her theater work, and she does all her own stunts!

She is an amazing person in many ways, which we already knew, but the work she has done to go above and beyond is what I want to honor today.

I admire you as much as I love you, my dear!

 

 

Posted June 29, 2017 by swanatbagend in character

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A Farewell to Birkenstocks   Leave a comment

This week, I had to say goodbye to my Birkenstock sandals.

It was not easy.

I’ve had this pair for nine years, or a bit more.  They were manky and flea-bitten, sunken, tread worn off most of the bottom, some stains, very dark, and when at spring break the top of the inside leather sole basically disconnected from the base of the right sandal, I ended up duct taping them together repeatedly to get through the week.

After we got back home, I kept duct-taping them because with re-entry, I didn’t have time to look for new sandals.  So several more weeks elapsed before I finally was able to get a visual on a new pair of Birkenstocks.

Then once those arrived, I took my time breaking them in–always a good idea, because a new pair always feels so stiff and can make your feet a bit sore.

Then the old ones sat by the back door with another pair of deceased shoes waiting to go to the clothing recycle.  I kept putting it off.

But these Birks were about as used and disgusting as a pair of sandals could get.  Definitely got the money’s worth out of them.

Why couldn’t I let them go?

Those sandals had been around so long, they had come to represent my life.  They’re like my Crunchy Mom uniform.

The sandals were something I wore every day in the house, summer or winter, rain or shine.  I put on tennis shoes to go out if I’m going anywhere, except on the hottest days of summer.  But at home I don’t like tennies because my feet get sweaty.  So–these Birks and I had been together pretty much every day for nine years.

They represent my hard work as a homeschooling mom who does most of her own cooking.

And they start with a really good memory–our first trip to the beach.  How do I know that’s when?  I had just met friends of our friends and we were having dinner together at the picnic table.  There were so many of us, there was too much on the table, the boards were uneven, Sri’s beer fell over and some got in my Birkenstocks under the table.  At first I was annoyed, but then I pulled it together and started singing, “I got beer in my Birkenstocks–it feels mighty fine….”

Hard to recycle a memory.

But hey, that’s why I still have the memory.

 

Posted June 28, 2017 by swanatbagend in identity, motherhood

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