cranberry soap

School begins again in just two weeks. Rather than speak of how quickly the summer has gone by, or to rail against those "Back to School" television commercials, my usual tendency is to hush anyone's chatter which infringes upon my final fourteen days of vacation time.  I've had a wonderful eight weeks off thus far and I still have two more. Summer isn't over yet. 

Although I'd like to say I'm still securely in "summer mode", admittedly, this is the time of year when I begin to make a lot of promises to myself. As summer winds down and my thoughts begin to turn towards teaching school, it's a more powerful point in the year than New Year's Eve. If my husband is right in saying that I do get "a little crazy" in my desire to savor each final day of summer vacation, it's because I'm anticipating the way I often allow teaching to consume me from September to June. Once the school year begins, my thoughts center around my students--their reading, their writing, and most importantly, their well being. I work to get to know them, to see what makes each of them tick, and I experiment with the best way to reach, to motivate, to influence. Sure, it's the work of any good teacher, however what gets threatened are the moments of pure impulsivity in my personal life that I so enjoy in the weeks of summer. What I sometimes let go of are the promises I make to myself each August. The ones that begin with the phrase, "Just because school is starting doesn't mean I can't...."

Yesterday, knowing it was the "two week" mark, I jumped out of bed, went downstairs to find my husband, and said, "Let's go kayaking at Scarborough Marsh!" I knew it was something he had spoken of wanting to do in previous years and it was an adventure he had mentioned to me again this summer, yet we hadn't made it there thus far. It was almost 70 degrees, the sun was shining, and there were no showers in the forecast. Eric accepted the invite, but a short 20 minutes later he came into the kitchen where I was fixing breakfast and told me he didn't feel like going today. I didn't hesitate. I gave him a quick rationale of why the day was perfect for such an adventure and I reminded him he could have the following day at home without any of my suggestions that we go do something. At that, he relented. Within the hour we were on our way, having hooked up the kayaks to the top of our van. We had a glorious time kayaking the marsh waters, watching the sandpipers and the egrets. Eric had packed a picnic lunch and we shared that on our drive home, having left in time to take our son to his first pre-season soccer practice. "Are you glad I pushed you to come today?" I asked. "Yes", he said. And he meant it. 

Earlier in the day, in between breakfast and loading up the kayaks, I'd gone upstairs to take a shower. When I didn't find any bars of soap, I took a deep breath and grabbed a beautifully wrapped gift soap which had been on my dresser bureau for almost a year. 

Last September, I'd placed the big bar of soap in my suitcase. I was at my parents' home for the last time. My siblings and I were cleaning their house and clearing it of their possessions. I'd stumbled across this bar of soap and had remembered purchasing it for my Mom for Christmas several years earlier. I remember telling her how it smelled of cranberries and how luxurious it seemed to me. She had smiled and agreed that it had a beautiful smell and she commented on how nicely it was wrapped in red paper with a little jewel on top. Seeing the bar of soap on my Mom's dresser made me smile at the memory of our many Christmas holidays together. It also made me a little sad to think that she had never opened it up to use it. I took the soap and brought it home with me and it has been on my own dresser since. 

Maybe it was the awareness of how quickly time passes and a little sadness over the thought of another summer coming to an end. Maybe I was thinking of the visit to my Mom just the day before. But suddenly I knew the time was right. I wanted to use that bar of soap. I was done with it simply existing on my bureau. I unwrapped it and took it to the shower. I laughed when halfway through my shower, the hot water cut out. Unaware I was in the shower, my son had begun his own shower in the bathroom next to mine. I giggled as I washed off Mom's luxurious cranberry smelling soap in the cool trickling stream of water now coming from my own shower and I deemed the timing of this all to be perfect. 

A calendar can tell us life is about to change, our days are about to slow down or get busier, but it is not the only measure of the way life works. Sometimes we are given the gift of a beautiful day which pushes us out the door--to meet new children and to support them in their young lives, or to adventure to new places and new adventures, to see the world from fresh perspectives, above or below the tops of the marsh. And sometimes it's time to again remember the love of the people who supported us in our own lives and to open up gifts we've shared with one another, and to use those gifts with joy and appreciation when the day seems right. Because we never can know for sure when it will be the last day spent with one another or the day when the outside temps may be warm but the shower water will suddenly turn cold. 

Two weeks from today I'll head back to school for another year with my teens. I've got some preparation to do, of course, but it's going to be a good year; I can feel it. Still, I hope the next two weeks of summer vacation bring many more moments of happiness and in-the-moment adventures. I'll plan some days and see where the rest take me. Tonight will be an evening of beauty pampering and shopping with my daughter, Emma. I'm looking forward to seeing my friend Darcy who will do our hair and then taking a trip to the mall where we'll get pedicures and explore our favorite stores. But first, I'll take a little time to enjoying the sun out here on my back deck this afternoon. My pup is happy that I'm outside with her and there's an array of beautiful birds flying above me in the tree tops. I think I'll post this to my blog, open up my Kindle, and read for a little bit. And then? I'm going to tell everyone not to turn on any hot water so I can head upstairs to take a shower with that luxurious bar of cranberry soap. 

100 miles a month, 10000 steps a day

Back in 1997 my husband and I made a trip to Pennsylvania with our two young daughters. We visited family, visited Amish Country, Hershey Park, and a lovely child-centered theme park, Sesame Street Place. It was a great vacation, however the piece of it that comes to mind this morning is our ride home. It was a long drive back to Maine. Our plan was to drive until we grew weary, stay overnight at a hotel, then make the rest of the trip come morning. It was a good plan...but then my stubborn determination kicked in. I'd taken the first leg of the drive and with the two girls sleeping peacefully in the backseat, I decided to make it home in one full swoop.

Eric reminded me we could pull over for the night. I remember telling him I was doing fine and had another couple of hours in me. As we reached familiar territory in New England, I felt the push to keep going. He offered to drive. I said no. He suggested again that we call it a night. I said, "Just a little more". He shook his head and realized that night, if he hadn't noticed before, that when I put my mind to something, I won't stop until I've met my goal.

Now, please know that I wasn't being reckless. I truly wasn't tired. I was ready to be back in my own bed and I saw no need to disturb those two little girls sleeping peacefully in the backseat. Conscious also of our checkbook balance, I figured we could use the money allocated for one more night in a hotel in a different way.

Our ride home from Pennsylvania that evening gets mentioned from time to time. Eric uses it to remind me of my determination and strength and stubbornness when I get a bit bullheaded. It's similar to how I pushed through stage performances the week after my Dad's death last summer. It's why I've tackled painting rooms in just a day or two. It's what allowed me to correct hundreds of student papers in a week's time. If I focus on the goal, I achieve it.

But I welcome and need support. As my Mom and Dad always reminded me, "No man is an island". I would not have driven home from Pennsylvania in a single night if Eric hadn't been in the passenger seat. I needed his conversation, his humor, and his frequent check ins. I wouldn't have made it to opening night last summer if it hadn't been for the way in which my Lake Region Community Theater family lifted and embraced me in our final few days of rehearsals. I'd have put down the paint brushes if I hadn't felt the happiness and pride of my family as they saw the new rooms taking shape.

So now I'm ready for another challenge, to achieve a goal of 100 miles of walking in one month's time. No specific route or destination, just the achievement of having walked a total of 100 miles over the course of 30 days. Some of my miles will be logged in at the gym. Some will be achieved in my neighborhood with my pup at my side. Some of my miles will be achieved through my basic activity here at home and at work.

This goal is important to me as it will help me through another transition. My son Paul, my baby, begins high school next month. In just four years he will be heading to college. And I'll be fifty years old. Oh my! Facing the empty nest is going to be difficult, but I love life and I want my husband and I to continue our adventures in this world long after we've watched our children take flight. To be ready for these adventures, I need to be healthy and strong. Although I've made solid strides in my fitness goals, I need something to recharge me and I'm thinking this challenge will do the job. To achieve this goal, I need to reach 10000 steps a day. If I begin today, I'll have two weeks to work up to this daily step amount and I will them aim to officially begin my 100 miles of walking on September 1st, 2014. My challenge should approach a healthy "almost to the mid-point" stride by September 11th. That date has always served as a powerful reminder to me that we never know what is around the corner in our lives. It's important to remain strong enough to face challenges that will hit us head on, and it's better to improve our health when we can so we can be there to better serve others.

With Sydney out of state working in her new job, Emma heading back to college in early September, and with the start of our own busy new school year beginning in just two weeks' time, I am rallying support from all. Whether you'd like to join me for even just one small leg of this 100 mile challenge by setting up your own step/mile goal or if you'd simply agree to cheer me on from the sidelines, I'd appreciate you being there. I'm going to log in my progress on a Facebook Events page and on my kitchen calendar.  I'll provide updates here too.

For more information on how 10000 steps a day can be achieved or for the health benefits of walking, I encourage you to check out this website: EmpoweringRetreat.com/walking-challenge.html 

watch me, Mr. Williams

At church this past weekend, a visiting priest discussed the importance of being there for other people, being a true friend, a loving support system for our loved ones. Father discussed the hurt of betrayal and the challenge of forgiveness while seeing the need to lift one another higher so we all have a chance to become more than we might otherwise be. Showing us that actions speak louder than words, after the service, the priest came over to the choir's corner where we were practicing music for next Sunday. He asked if he might interrupt us briefly. He then turned to my daughter and complimented her beautiful voice and the special way in which her cantoring had highlighted the readings. He then turned to all of us to thank us all for the lovely music. He made a point of saying that he does not usually take notice of choirs, "Although I should",  he admitted. We all smiled and thanked him.

I am thinking of Father's words as I reflect on three separate incidents today. The first was this afternoon when I stepped out of my car in the parking lot at the beach. After grabbing my beach chair, towel, and beach bag, I began walking towards the water. I passed a couple with a small child. The man stopped in his tracks and reopened the door to their truck, apparently having forgotten an item. I heard him talking under his breath, something about what he needed to find, but I could not hear his exact words. Continuing to stroll, I heard the woman yelling out in exasperation to the man, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! COME ON!". The little boy patiently held onto his mother's hand as she began muttering under her breath. She was clearly frustrated with the delay, but the child remained calm, turned to the woman and asked sweetly, "Do you want me to go get him?" She sighed in frustration and said, "Yes. Go get him. See what the problem is". 

Leaving the three behind me, I took a deep breath, thought of how sad it was that their afternoon at the beach was beginning with such stress, and I continued walking. 

Later in the day I read an article a colleague of mine had shared online. The article challenged the often held belief that parents who are using their phones while in public with their children are being neglectful in their parenting duties. The Jennifer Hicks' article, Dear Mom on the Iphone: You're Doing Fine, aims to defend parents who are quickly judged by others who see them with their phones in use, despite not knowing their individual stories or situations. 

But it wasn't until later this evening that the message of Father's words tested me most. Actor/comedian Robin Williams was found dead today, an apparent suicide. He was only 63 years old. I felt a kick in the gut. "No", was my first response. "No". 

It couldn't have been more than a minute after I read the news online that my son turned to me on the couch and shared the news with me himself. "I'm hoping this is a hoax", I said. "I don't think it is", Paul said softly. I knew he was right. By then my fingers had quickly tapped my phone's screen, flying from one news source to the next. It wasn't a hoax.

Shock. Disbelief. Horror. Pain. A little bit of anger--at drugs, at addiction, at depression, at it all, but not towards Mr. Williams himself. No. Towards him I feel so much, but not an ounce of anger. He gave so much of himself--to his art, to his comedy, to humanitarian efforts. His work and his demeanor was as honest as any man's. My heart is broken. I'm so sad tonight. 

Online began the outpour of emotions from his fans. Articles about suicide, depression, addiction began to pop up as people shared their shock and their grief. Discussions of Mr. Williams' best movies and characters began circulating too, and I, myself, thought of his work. I thought of Dead Poet's Society and What Dreams May Come, two powerful movies, both beautiful films I've shown in my classroom, each with characters who end their own lives. I thought of my own work in the classroom, my own research into health and wellness as I strive to safeguard my teenage students and carry them through films and literature where depression and suicide are prevalent. Teaching Shakespeare demands this sensitivity. And now, once again, I am welling up remembering the honesty of Robin Williams' performances in his films. Damn it. He's gone. 

Mr. Williams was an amazing talent who could pull off bawdy humor, dress convincingly in drag, tickle a sign language speaking chimpanzee, and hold his audience's hearts in his hand with his profound depth in dramatic film roles.  We all knew of the dark areas he fought against in his personal life--his cocaine and alcohol addiction, his battles with depression. He struggled to separate himself from his pains and temptations, but it seemed he would always continue to successfully fight his dark shadows. A quote from one of his portrayed characters (Lance Clayton in the 2009 movie, World's Greatest Dad) is haunting me tonight.  "I used to think the worst thing in life was to end up all alone. It's not. The worst thing in life is to end up with people that make you feel alone". Shit. 

I suppose it's rather odd how much we grow to care for those in the public eye, actors or other celebrities we've never met, but whose work we've so closely studied. It can seem they are members of our own families. As I'm writing this tonight, my tummy is churning still and my tears are still brimming. It feels like I grew up with this man. He first made me laugh in his zany role as an alien on Mork & Mindy. I laughed at his stand up routines and I felt what I can only call pride when I began seeing him pulling off his dramatic roles and being heralded as a "serious actor". I suppose I thought of him like an uncle or at least, an actor mentor. I have even said at various times that his mannerisms remind me of my father in law. In any case, news of his death today has affected me. I've given a lot of thought to matters of judgement, hurt, betrayal, friendship, and disappointment. I'm struggling not to be impatient with all of us human beings who are so quick to think we're right, so quick to judge, to condemn, to betray, to lash out. Am I straying in my thoughts? No. We need to do better by one another. We need to lift one another higher, to be there for one another. We cannot lose anyone else, celebrity or not. We need to put away judgement and pride and competition and whatever else prevents us from lifting one another higher. Start right now. Forgive yourself first. Then turn to your loved ones and make things right, sound, and secure. And tomorrow spread a little kindness to a stranger. We're all in this together, after all. 

Tomorrow, with the weather man saying it's going to be the last sunny day of the week, I think I'll head back to the beach. Instead of strolling by a tired family, I think I'll stop and ask if there's anything I might do to ease their burden. "Can I help you? Would you appreciate another hand?" If I see a Mom on her cell phone, I'm not going to assume she's not paying attention to her child. Maybe she's at wits end and has reached out for a little family support. I won't interrupt her conversation, but maybe I can watch her son or daughter a little more closely until she hangs up. I could then compliment her child and make her smile. And finally, Mr. Williams? I'm going to remember and honor your life's achievements and your humility and humanity by continuing to match your authenticity of spirit and your love of laughter. But as Father proved to us last Sunday at Mass, actions speak louder than words. So, watch me, Mr. Williams. Watch me. I won't let you down. 

this body

When I began contemplating this blog, I considered making it a space to record my efforts to become more physically fit. I thought it could store a log which would record numbers--hours at the gym, steps on my pedometer,  calories consumed, and pounds (hopefully lost) on the bathroom scale. But, in all honesty, the more I thought of this particular approach to my health and fitness goals, the more nauseated I began to feel. It's not that I won't continue to push myself towards my "at least three times a week at the gym", "10000 steps a day", "8 glasses of water a day" goals, but this is not what I need this new blog of mine to be. I don't think I should measure health and wellness with too intense a focus on numbers. I cannot risk having my happiness or my level of inner confidence intertwined with such.

Instead, this body deserves celebration. This body of mine carried four souls and birthed three children. These hips carried those children of mine and several nieces, nephews, and other children I babysat for over the years. These legs and feet have taken me on various adventures--from one place to another--on stage, in the classroom, to beaches, up mountains, and through the woods. These breasts nursed three children and the stretch marks (or as I've heard them called recently, tiger stripes!) announce my fierce and loving role as a Mom. These hands, sometimes achy, have graded thousands upon thousands of student papers, and the wrinkles on my face radiate decades of smiling and other animated expressions. These arms have hugged and held friends and family. This lap has provided a comfortable seat for my babies as we rocked, read, or cuddled. These broad shoulders have lugged bags of school work, diapers, groceries, sports equipment, and have moved furniture and boxes of clothing, dishes, etc in and out of my daughters' dorm rooms and apartments, and these nearsighted eyes of mine have done their best to watch over my loved ones.

It's most important to me to take time out to acknowledge that I am most grateful and appreciative of this body of mine. This body has done right by me for 46 years. Sure, it's no longer squeezing into the tiniest pieces of clothing. And I've had some awful sciatica pain at times, but luckily it dissipates quickly when it comes. I'll continue with my goals to drop some weight through exercise and healthy eating because I want to do right by this body and be stronger for the future. I want another 46 years with this body of mine, at least. But in this day, today? Hell yes, this body deserves an embrace!

embrace

I am on a journey with this new blog. Thinking of the joy and satisfaction I experienced during my participation in the 100 Happy Days experiment (http://100happydays.com) this past spring, I want to continue documenting the positivity and my awe of life, as well as my work to make peace with life's challenges. Our days on this earth are limited. It's not morbid to say this; it's honest. If I'm lucky, I will awake in the morning and have another chance to experience the life I've been given. Some of my days can be tough, it's true, and sometimes there doesn't seem to be enough time to enjoy the moments that bring me the most joy. But in every day, in every situation, I know that I have a choice. Quite simply, I am creating this blog as a declaration that I am humbly choosing to embrace it all, come what may. I will love. I will learn. I will laugh. And I will cry--sometimes out of sadness or pain, or, as I hope will be the case more times than naught, out of sheer appreciation and praise for this life I'm living.

This blog is an extension of the blog I created in December of 2010, viewsfromthedock.blogspot.com. I will continue with that, and perhaps at times, on that site I will share a post crafted here, but I like the idea of starting fresh with a renewed sense of self, the "me" that is dropping to her knees ready to accept, ready to be.

If you stay with me on this journey, you'll see me embrace the good, the bad, the serene, the chaotic. God bless.

The day has begun.