Again and again and again...

I'm sitting here in my quiet house, slightly chilly in front of the open windows, just wanting to write. To you. Wanting to connect. With you. Again. Again and again and again. Have I told you lately how much I love my space here? My time with you? Those few minutes as I read and reread your comments and feel, more than loved, understood? I do. I love you. I am grateful for you. Grateful for every kind thought, birthday wish, sweet gift, gentle word, loving thought. Just very, very grateful.

In the quiet peace of my home, I want to count my blessings. Again. Again and again and again. Know that when I do, I think of you. and you. and you.

I write my list and I whisper, "Thank you. Oh, thank you, Lord."

• for friends who are not near, but are never far
• for a friend who celebrates my birthday all week long
• for my love, my child, my home
• for the constant generosity of blogging friends
• for people who make a difference
• for the chance to serve
• for books and books and books
• for autumn and the way the trees are shyly changing into their ballgowns
• for favorite people who just can't quit blogging
  
• for perfect birthday presents
• for beauty
  
• for love
• for peace
• for joy
• for contentment
• for laughter
  

What about you? What blessings do you count again and again and again?


The amazing picture above was taken by my friend, Se'lah and given to me as a gift when I admired it. Don't you just love people like that? Oh, you'll love Se'lah. For sure.

As the Years Pass

My birthday was on Wednesday last week. I turned 39. Thirty nine?? How on earth did that happen? Some days I'd swear I was still 12, stuck in Jr. High Hell. Some days I'm 17, full of life and adventure and excitement, with everything ahead. Most days I've just turned 30, went skydiving on my birthday, am feeling strong and happy and good. How could I be staring 40 in the face?

I have a confession to make. One that doesn't make me proud. I've spent too much time this past year feeling vaguely bothered at the thought of turning 40. Feeling awed by that inexorable march of time. It never ends, does it? Won't slow down for even a minute. Worried about where my life is heading, and feeling far too stunned by mere numbers.

Yes, yes, I know. You are only as old as you feel. Your best years are still ahead. Life is sweet. Old age is better than the alternative. Blah, blah, blah. I do know all that. I do. It doesn't help much when you're the one turning 39. Thirty nine sounds so... so middle aged somehow. How on earth could I be middle aged??? No way is my heart middle aged. Not my mind either. But, well. My body just might be. I've occasionally heard these little groans come out of me when stand up after sitting for a while. YIKES!! I've noticed that I squint and adjust my arm length when I have to read the small print. And, what's the deal with needing to go to the bathroom two or three times a night? MY GOSH! My Mom was right. Getting older's not for sissies.

So there I was up until a few weeks ago. One part of me was feeling disgruntled and sort of lost. The other part of me could hear my internal drill sergeant yelling, Get up soldier. Age is just a number. Get up! Get moving! What's your problem anyway?

I still can't tell you what my problem was exactly. But, I can tell you what helped. Actually turning 39 helped, of course. More than that, friends helped. Christina turning 40 and confiding that it made her feel sexy and powerful helped. Robin being so strong and confident and happy and past 50 helped. Grammy telling me that she's happier in her 60s than she's ever been helped. And Meri. My friend Meri really helped. This is what she told me:

I think the key to growing beautiful old is to keep learning, to stand in awe at the wonder of the universe, to stay open to whatever arises, to do what makes you happy at least once a day, to express yourself creatively in whatever form suits you, and to laugh. It means treating yourself like a queen especially no one else does and always wearing comfortable shoes. It means saying no whenever you feel like it and shedding your guilt at not martyring yourself for the whole world. It involves having friends of all ages and mentoring younger women. It requires taking risks.

There's no choice but to grow old. The challenge is to become beautiful old. Are you up to it? I think you are......

I am. I am up to it. I will become beautiful old. What about you? How do you think we become beautiful old?




I love that picture of me. It was taken by Tangobaby when I was in San Francisco this past July. She's an amazing photographer and makeup artist and I have several very nice pictures from our time together. I probably even have a few that are more flattering. But. I love this one because it is so me. I'm laughing, and talking, and looking up. Looking up. That's the real me. The me I plan to be as I grow beautiful old.

That Corner Was Mine

This is one of my posts that begins in a comment to a friend. This time, that friend was Pixie Dust. Here's what I wrote to her:

How did you do it? Make me laugh and cry in just five paragraphs? I laughed so hard when you wrote the corner was mine. In first grade, I had a corner of my own, too. I got put there for talking. Talking, talking, talking. My meanie-pants teacher made me face the corner, which only made me more obstinate than ever. I don't think he ever managed to shut me up. I turned around and talked out of plain old cussedness. I've disliked that old coot for years, but as I write this I realize that I probably owe him for my excellent verbal skills. I began honing them in his class after all.

I've been thinking about the teachers I had. Isn't it funny how we often remember the terrible ones? Perhaps we had one or two special teachers, but the rest just fade away in our memories. I wonder why that is? Or maybe it's just me. Whom do you remember better, the great teachers or the ones who hurt you somehow?

I wrote a post some time ago about speaking gently to each other, about being kind. A woman wrote back to me and told me a heartbreaking story. When she was eleven her teacher made fun of her in front of the class. More than fifty years later, she still hurt, still refused to speak in front of groups. That just makes me weep to think of. We all hold such power over each other's hearts. Sure, we all know that we shouldn't give people that power, but that's a subject for another post. I guess I just wanted to write about how important it is for us all to speak gently to each other. To be tender with each other's efforts and dreams. And choices. Most especially to be gentle and patient and tender with our little ones.

I have a tough class this year, and it has been a loooooong five weeks. Maybe I'm just writing this to remind myself of what I know deep inside. Lord knows I need reminding to be patient and speak gently as the hot afternoons grow long. When I think about my class I just keep thinking a few things over and over. And so.

And so I write them here as a reminder to me. Hoping that maybe they will be words someone else needs to read today. I keep thinking:

* I may be the only person who touches them with tenderness today.
* My smile may be the first one they've had this morning.
* The environment I create may be the only safe place they have.
* If I give an impatient answer, it could crush a spirit or extinguish a spark.
* If I listen with real attention, it might fan a tiny spark into a lifelong flame.
* My arms might be the only pair that offers a hug today.
* My sincere apology might be the first adult one they ever hear.
* When I say, "I love you", each child hears it deep in their heart.
* I will never know what small act of mine will create a life-long memory. Let my words, my attitudes, my actions be good ones. Let them be full of encouragement and affection. Let them be full of love. Every day, all day long.

Wouldn't the world be even more wonderful if we all lived as though everything we did had a life-long impact on someone? It could. You know, it really could. Just ask my friend.



The illustration above is by Gabi Swiatkowska from the book Waiting for Gregory by Kimberly Willis Holt. I think. It could be from Summertime Waltz, which is just as lovely.

The Book That Changed My Life

One of the books I am currently reading is The Book That Changed My Life. It's full of essays by authors about, you guessed it, the book that changed their life. It's very interesting reading for a bibliophile. The kind of book that leads you to another book, or two, or ten. It got me thinking. What book changed my life? Hmmm....

Ummm.... Uh. I dunno. I really don't. I can't point to a single book that changed my life. I've been a voracious reader since before I could read myself. My first complete sentence was, "Momma, weed it to me. Pees?" What? Not a single book that changed my life?

Nope.

And, yet, it is true to say that every book I read and loved changed my life; at least a little. That's why we read, isn't it? To have our perceptions challenged, our complacencies shaken, our views widened? When we read a great book we get to slip into another skin, try on a new life, a new personality, a new way of thinking. How can that leave you unchanged?


Just Some of the Books That Changed My Life

• The Lonely Doll is why I fell in love with black and white photography.
• All-of-a-Kind Family was my first passionate love affair with a book. I checked this one out so often the librarian finally wouldn't let me any more. She said I had to give the other children a chance. I still don't like that woman.
  
• Thirty One Brothers and Sisters by Reba Paef Mirsky was the first time I realized that everyone is kin; that we are all more alike than different.
• I read the Chatain's Guardian for the first time when I was about 13. It showed me exactly what I wanted in a husband. And I waited until I found a Roman of my own. It seemed like I waited forever even though I was only 19 when I found him.
• The Hiding Place is a book I read over and over again. I've read it about once a year since my first reading at 16. And you know, each time I read it, I fall in love again. Each time I read it, I learn something new.
  
• J.B by Archibald MacLeish was the first book I ever read that seemed profound to me. That helped me understand the world with a more adult point of view. It is also the first book I took so immediately into my heart that I memorized lines of it on first reading.

  Blow on the coal of the heart. The candles in churches are out. The lights have gone out in the sky. Blow on the coal of the heart And we'll see by and by . . .

• I first fell in love with fantasy when I read The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe. That's when I realized how much I had been missing. That's when I vowed never to skip a book again simply because I think I don't like a particular genre.
  
• My Antonia is the book that made me realize the deep value in being a story teller.
  
• The Bible changes me more with each reading. Every time I open it, I marvel that the ink is dry, it is so real and relevant.
  

And you? What books changed your life?


The wonderful image above was spotted here. I wish I could tell you about the artist.

September 12

If you are teenager or older, you can tell anyone who asks exactly where you were eight years ago yesterday. It's one of those moments that has passed into history in the same way that we remember Kennedy's assassination, the space shuttles, the moon landing... We all know exactly where we were when the towers fell.

I wrote about 9/11 last year, and I don't think I can say it any better now. Instead, I want to write about September 12. You see, we all remember 9/11. We mourn. We cry. We say the Pledge. We lower our flags to half mast. We feel sad and vaguely lost all day long. And all of that is as it should be.

And then we wake up on September 12 and we do what needs doing. Just like we all did eight years ago. This year we talked about 9/11 and then I read an amazing book to my class. It was written by a class of first graders, and it's called September 12th. The book says this:

September 12th was a new day. We knew everything would be all right. because...
the sun came up and the birds started to sing again.
We knew everything would be all right because we had homework.
2+2 still added up to 4.
We knew we would be all right because our parents said they loved us.

Isn't that the truth? Here's what I told my students this year:

We've talked already about what happened eight years ago. We've talked about the heroes, we've talked about courage. We've talked about how important it is to be the kind of person who is willing to do what is right, no matter what it costs you. You know all those things. But, before we are finished, I want to talk to you about September 12. That's a very important date in American history, too.

You see, that was the day that we all knew everything was going to be alright. And, here's how we knew. On September 12, firefighters and police officers all over the country went back to work, still ready to face a burning building. Doctors and nurses and ambulance drivers, some of whom hadn't slept yet, all showed up for work. Ready to help. Mommas and Daddies woke up, made breakfast, got their children dressed, took them to school, and went to their own jobs. On September 12, teachers all over the country met their students at the classroom door with a smile. Ministers went to visit people who were sick and hurting and confused. Friends called each other, made play dates, spent time together. People laughed and cried and hugged and ate dinner. Just lived. Like we always have. Like we always do.

If you want to know what a hero is, I'll tell you. A hero is a person who does what needs doing, no matter what. But, a hero is also a person who lives through something terrible and gets back up the next day and does what needs doing. Even if what needs doing is as boring as cooking dinner or doing the laundry. Heroes aren't only people who run into a burning building. Heroes are people like you. And me. And your parents. People who wake up every day and say, "I'm going to do the best I can with whatever comes my way. I'm going to do what needs doing. If it is homework, or chores, or grading papers. And then tomorrow, I'm going to do it all again."

Happy September 12, my friends. God bless us all.


The image above is a first grade illustration from the book September 12.
Update: 11:40 a.m.: I had to come back and tell you this. My daughter saw the book September 12 and said, "Hey we read that. Momma, how come everybody thinks a hero has to be a person who does something like saving a life? That's not right."
"What do you mean that's not right, Sloane? Tell me what you think it takes to be a hero."
"Everybody can be a hero, Momma. All it takes is to help somebody. It can be something like when you see someone fall down and you go and help them up."
That gave me delighted shivers, let me tell you. We hadn't talked about this subject before. Ever. Sloane just knew it. Do you want to know who my hero is? Well, Sloane is one of them. For sure.

Another Silly Celebration

A little more than a year ago, I wrote a very similar post to this one. It was so much fun that I thought I'd do it again.

I am the kind of girl who gets weepy at Hallmark commercials and emotionally involved in things that don't matter very much. I really, really get excited to hear some one's good news. I feel sympathy pains when someone gets hurt or sick. I am usually the first person my friends come to when they get a new car because they know I'll be thrilled for them and demand a ride as soon as possible. I think the word for what I am is ENTHUSIASTIC.

Today is an example of the silly things I get excited about. Did you know today's date is 09-09-09? Seriously, how cool is that? And so, in honor of the day and of being excited over the little things, I offer you this post.

Nine Lists of Nine
all lists in no particular order

Nine easy treats to make a tough day a little better

• slowly eating a Snickers ice cream bar
• finding a personal letter in the mail
• slurping Sonic coke with extra ice
• calling your mom on the drive home from work
  
• having your best friend call just to check on you
  
• Chinese take out and a movie
  
• curling up with a great book
  
• a long, long hug from someone you love
• going to bed early

Nine comfort foods for when you need to bring out the big guns

• homemade mashed potatoes and gravy
• hot rolls with too much butter
• homemade biscuits with too much butter and strawberry jam
• warm, chewy chocolate chip cookies fresh from the oven
• cornbread and chili for supper
• grilled cheese sandwich with tomato soup
• a big bowl of macaroni and cheese
  
• chicken enchilada casserole piled high with sour cream
  
• saltines slathered with mayo and topped with slices of sharp cheddar cheese (Yes, I really do eat this, but only when I'm really down.)
  

Nine songs for when you're feeling blue

• Bring It On Home To Me
  
• Lean On Me
• I Say A Little Prayer For You
• Everybody's Got a Laughing Place
  
• Get Up Offa Dat Thing
• Viva La Vida (You've got to watch this.)
• Oi To The World
• Oh Happy Day
• Joyful, Joyful

Nine things you should do at least once in your life

• sky dive
• skinny dip
  
• write a fan letter
• perform for a crowd
  
• see your favorite band live
• send flowers for no good reason
• mentor someone who needs you
• laugh till coke squirts out your nose
• take a moonlight ride in a horse-drawn carriage

Nine things to do every day

• sing
• pray
• read
  
• dance
  
• give thanks
• smile at strangers
• drink lots of water
• laugh, a lot, a whole lot
• hug at least three people

Nine wonderful newish-to-me blogs

• Magpie's Fancy
• Gabrielle Kai Photography
• Lobster and Swan
• Peonies and Polaroids
• Stuck in Customs
• Stories I Can Tell
  
• Concrete and Honey
• Meri's Musings
  
• Spontaneous Clapping
  

Nine things on my to do list

• print student's pictures and get them hung on the classroom door
• catch up on my thank you notes
• paint and hang my inspiration board for the Sparkle Room
  
• make a great apple cobbler for Jeffrey
• read my camera manual
• get a new pedicure
  
• spend my iTunes giftcard
• have another craft day with Sloane
  
• make my next Alphabetica post

Nine things on my To Buy list

• this book
• and this one
• this movie
• and this one
• this necklace
• and this one
• a new stapler for school
• this completely cool container
  
• a navy and white striped top
  

Nine things to be grateful for

• music
  
• Jeffrey & Sloane
• my cozy, comfy bed
• that hard days always end
• that every day is a new beginning
• my job; even when its hard, it's mine
• that PMS is not an every day occurrence
  
• that you can't stay grumpy when you dance and sing
• that I can always count on laughter, love, and gratitude

Happy 09.Day to you.


The photos above are from Other Things and Leo Reynolds.

Speaking of Wishes,

I have more. Of course I do.

I wish you

the same sense of perspective that time at the ocean always seems to bring

magical moments that make you feel all lit up inside

the feeling of freedom you had when you rode downhill on your childhood bike

days when you know and enjoy your own beauty

empty spaces and room to breathe

Be well my friends. Be happy.



All photos were taken by i.Anton and are used with permission. You can purchase some of her wonderful images here.