The More Things Change…

TashasSpiralGarden          Of a recent Saturday, we were out and about checking the yard sales. While Stephen was perusing the items displayed there, I fell into a conversation with the person in charge. She had grown up in Grafton and spoke of how much had changed in the years she had lived here.  I agreed. Although we have lived here only thirty years as of this year, we too have seen many changes. This got me to thinking about how it was then compared to how it is now.

When we first moved to Grafton the shopping center that is now home to the Stop and Shop had a department store where we found a winter jacket for Stephen. He wore it for many years and finally gave it away, still in useful condition. There was a drug store where the deli and sandwich shop is now, and I remember when the drug store went out of business. I bought a pair of real nylons with seams left over from the fifties or sixties.

Restaurants have come and gone in the building by the lake, and there still is one there. There was a book store and later a market where now other stores are, yet the plaza remains and the stores sell items, just different ones. It is truly said, “The more things change, the more they stay the same.”

The garden I began at the first home we lived in in Grafton, has with its different owners, undergone many changes, yet it still exists in its current form. I have had many gardens in my life and all of them have evolved in their own ways. Now though I no longer garden, I still in a way tend to one of another kind: my life has become my garden.

Many years ago I had a dream in which in some way I cannot explain I was both a garden and its gardener. This has become a kind of metaphor for how my life has evolved. Those I love and tend could be said to be similar to plants that grow and thrive as I care for them.  Too I am my own garden as I care for this body the best I can, though sometimes I neglect it and then like a garden deprived of proper nourishment, I suffer for it.

As once I studied how to make my garden grow at its best, so now I try to learn what best nurtures me and those I tend with the same love and care I once devoted to my gardens. At times I weed out what no longer belongs in my personal garden, and at times, those I have tended outgrow their place in my garden and transplant themselves elsewhere.

Or like other plants, they outgrow their earthly existence and move on. My life like my garden provides me with wonderful opportunities to learn and grow, and I try to take advantage of them. What matters most to me is that I do whatever I can with whatever resources I have to be a good gardener, and that I stay awake and aware to what works best to make my gardens grow.

 

 

Compassion and Patience Go Hand in Hand

Pictures of Italy '11 031          If you have ever walked with very young children, toddlers perhaps or even one just learning to walk, you have had to practice extremes of patience. How well I remember, as a mother of five, the small hand in mine as we went for a walk. I’d have one of my hands on the handle of the stroller to be ready when little legs tired, the other clutching the hand of the child. They all wanted to walk, of course, at least as soon and as far as they could. The snail’s pace we traveled was a wonderful test of patience. Especially if I were in a hurry.  Little children can be very insistent.

Patience and perfection don’t go together well. As a small child I wanted my hair ribbons to match my socks. It seems I have always been addicted to seeking perfection. There is a story by Edgar Allen Poe called, The Fruit at the Bottom of the Bowl. It tells of a man who was apprehended for his crime because he had worked so diligently to make sure he left no fingerprints at the scene. My insistence on having all my ducks in a row is frustrating to me as well as a bad habit. I am trying to eliminate it, and I could be doing better.

Take tidying–it’s endless if I let it be. There is another favorite story of mine: A nice couple attracted the attention of P.T.Barnum, so the story goes, and he gifted them with a brand new sofa. Sadly, the rest of their living room furniture looked shabby by comparison, so they scrimped and saved and bought new. Then they had to paint the living room, and so it went until everything in their home was new except—you guessed it the no longer new, now shabby sofa. Tidying becomes an endless process because whatever isn’t tidied shows up more vividly and urges me to continue.

So then I feel compelled to do so. The trick is to know when to stop, call it a day, and resume later. However my fear is that I won’t get back to the work at hand because other things will crop up that demand my attention. Trying to be patient with what needs doing is an important focus for me. The chief hindrance? Without wishing to, I have slowed down. I just cannot move as fast as I once did. Part of this is because being somewhat clumsy I am trying to be careful not to make mistakes, and part is because age and arthritis have affected my agility.

Patience with myself is my task now, and it’s not easy. I once had a elderly counseling client who constantly lamented that he could not move the way he wanted to. He wanted to have a young body again. I can understand his frustration. Now I am in the same boat, What I have learned, sometimes the hard way, is that the secret to having patience is to have compassion. Over the years I have taught myself to feel compassion for others who struggle. Now I need to apply it to myself. When I view my struggles with compassion, it is easier to be patient. I have realized that being kind to myself is as important as being kind to others. I am patiently working on it.

Want an autographed copy of my new book Up To My Neck In Lemons? Send me a check for $15 Postage included, to P.O. Box 171, North Grafton, MA 01536,  and learn about lemons–actual, poetical and metaphorical. Make your life’s lemons into lemonade and enjoy my book a sip or so at a time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Judge Me Not

Dead Branches and reflections 2Someone once said, “Point a finger at someone else and you will be pointing four at yourself.” That is what we do when we judge someone else. However this is exquisitely easy to do. In fact, most of us do it all the time. For instance, how many of us who need to lose a few pounds look at an overweight person and say silently, “How could he or she get so out of shape?” I know I used to be guilty of that. Now my thought is, “Oh that poor person, how difficult it must be for him or her.”

In the Bible in Mathew 7 during the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus says, “Judge not that ye be not judged.” And he goes on to say (I have paraphrased it) that before we do that we need to look into our own selves to see how guilty we may be of what we are criticizing. It’s been my experience that those things that annoy me most are often those things that I may be guilty of myself.

If I am paying attention, I can take the opportunity this gives me to look at my annoyance as a reminder of my own issues rather than feeling superior about someone else’s faults. Like most if not all of us I have been there and done that and perhaps even realized afterward that I too am guilty of the same. It is easier to see the faults of others than to turn the searchlight on our own.

Rather than look critically at another, there is another road I can take and that is observing without actually making a judgment. This has to be done carefully, with a sense of compassionate detachment. For instance, if I see someone behaving in a way that appears to me to be rude, I can view the potential rudeness simply as how this person is acting, or I can see the person in a critical light. If I did these things, I would consider them to be rude. However, perhaps the person in question simply doesn’t know any better.

This kind of behavior frequently happens with children, especially the very young. I remember one of my daughters at three looking at her grandmother and saying. “Why are you so fat?” The poor woman was somewhat taken aback but took it in good spirit. She sputtered a bit then smiled and changed he subject. Young children can be tactless. Later they may learn that this behavior is not viewed kindly. I know even as an adult I have been guilty of it. Remembering this, when I am with someone whose actions seem to be inappropriate I work to see their  behavior as a result of ignorance.

Learning as I go I hope to be as nonjudgmental as I can. Having grown up with prejudices inherited from my rather judgmental mother and father, in order to do better I observe myself in action as I am able, and I do not judge myself. Life is a wonderful teacher. As I move through each day I find numerous opportunities to enhance my knowledge as well as to refine my responses. It’s a kind of game I play. If I do not judge myself I will be less judgmental of others. Despite what they might have said or done, when I don’t judge them I can see them more clearly and with kinder eyes.

 

Life’s Patience Training

pictures downloaded from my camera 2. 148My introduction to using a computer came abruptly. The son of a friend dropped one he had built on my desk and said, “Here you need this.” He left me without giving me any instructions beyond how to turn the machine on and off. This was back in the nineties when I still happily typed my columns on a typewriter and delivered them by hand. I imagine you can sympathize with how it was to try to apply what I knew about typing to this newfangled mechanical servant! Fortunately he did come back to teach me until I began to learn better how to manage. It certainly took patience—his and mine.

How do you learn to be patient? By being patient, of course! It helps to have had little children to care for, yet not everyone gets to do that. Many of us, however work with cell phones and computers on a regular basis. They can present much need for patience. As a writer, I deal with that often. I do not have much knowledge of computers except what I have needed to learn in order to write and publish on the internet and submit to the paper.

In this time of sad stories we read and hear every day, I hope to be able to offer positive, uplifting words to help readers feel better about themselves and life. For the opportunity to do this I am grateful. That said where does the patience training come in? It has to do with the use of computers and their mysteries, and it includes the use of cell phones with their dropped calls, missed words, bad or strange connections, lack of cell towers, “roaming” charges and so on. Still, computers can be worse.

Sometimes when I start up my computer it announces that it needs a pass word. I never have put a password on my computer to start it up, so how can I find it or post it? I do keep a list of my many passwords to various and sundry sites. I even printed  it out so that in the event I have forgotten one I don’t have to go look for it on the computer while trying to use the computer to access the site. Having something in print is helpful, and keeping records in other places than on the device you are using can be equally so as I have discovered.

There is the problem of the articles that vanish because I can’t remember the titles. Sometimes a piece even disappears because I hit a key that mysteriously makes it do so.  If I am writing a column or a poem, thankfully I can retrieve my effort with the backward arrow. However if I am emailing, I have to begin again. Ah, patience training, her it comes again! I am sure my readers have similar issues to deal with, and know what I mean. The bright side, however, is the opportunity to practice my ability to be patient, and that can indeed be valuable for my life in general.

The Eyes of Perception

Corner Reflections medBecause I was very different in my interests as well as my life circumstances from that of many of my classmates I was badly bullied in grade school. However what was worse was that I had no good way to respond to my classmates’ unkind behavior. It wasn’t until I discovered meditation that I acquired a way of controlling not only my reactions and responses but also of avoiding the potential complications of thoughtlessly spontaneous and perhaps provocative words and actions.

As I grew in my ability to see what was in my mind and/or heart before I made things worse for myself, I also discovered ways to make my life much happier and less complicated by negative thoughts and emotions. Some believe that meditation is a form or religion or at least connected with it. However it is actually a form of exercise for the mind. As physical exercise preserves the body, so meditation practice helps to preserve the mind.

Is my glass half full or half empty? Believe it or not, that depends on the nature of the thoughts I have concerning both the glass and what is in it. Am I looking with feelings or thoughts of fear of emptiness? Am I anticipating or being grateful for what is in the (metaphorical) glass? My days go better when I am aware of what is going on within me.

Since nearly fifty years ago when I began practicing meditation, I have become able to be much more aware of my thoughts and feelings. It is a great help to my ability to remain calm and aware during difficult circumstances. I’m still working to remain conscious of my inner processes, and I expect to do so for the rest of my life. Working on the mind is like doing scales on the piano. A good musician must keep on practicing.

When I find myself dreading an activity or event, I can remind myself that fear is False Evidence Appearing Real. My “glass of hope” will then appear to me to be half full rather than half empty. When I feel a sense of joy as well as of gratitude concerning whatever might be approaching, I will have a “glass half full” of optimistic feelings. This approach has the effect of helping me to get the best from whatever does happen, even if that differs from my expectations. The same is true concerning what someone might be saying to me: I can better monitor my responses and reactions.

When I am mindful—aware of what is going on in my mind and heart, I have more control over what I do or say next. If I am able to anticipate my words or my inner reactions to what is happening or to what someone is saying, I am better able to control them. Thus I can to avoid potential mistakes as well as difficulties. In addition, when I am able to take advantage of my perceptions, I may ward off the far larger problems that might otherwise evolve were I not able to see clearly or to be prepared with positive words or actions.

 

 

 

 

 

The Many Ways of Cherishing, Part One

Dad with Snake Dictionary definitions of “cherish” tell us it comes from words that imply caring and holding dear. The French word “cher,” or “cherie” meaning dear one is often used as a term of endearment, especially in Europe. That and those we cherish are what and whom we hold in our hearts as precious. Keeping, implying more than just a momentary affection, is another dictionary definition of cherishing. I was thinking of this as I contemplated Father’s Day and the memories I cherish of my late dad.

I fondly remember our many sand castles we built on the beach over the years. On occasional weekends would go to my Great Aunt Alice’s beach cottage so he could get away from the incessant telephone calls from clients who thought they were having horticultural emergencies. No cell phones disturbed our peace, nor was there even a landline to the simple, somewhat primitive beach shack our family slept in. Our daylight hours were spent on the sand, in the water or weeding the beach grass from the path to it. He considered that his way of repaying his aunt for her kindness in lending us the cottage.

If there were big waves left over from a storm in the days before we delighted in jumping hem together. Standing waist deep in the water he would hold tight to my hands and I would leap as high as i could with him, while the waves battered at us before they threw themselves onto the beach. He would call us “brave girl” and “brave boy” as we waited for the next one to crest around us. The exhilaration of it is vivid in my mind even today.

This and other cherished images from my young years are fun to dwell on. I keep them in my heart, along with those of other dear ones, some of who have departed this life and others of whom live at a distance, whom I seldom see. I also think about and spend time caring for friends and family nearby. I do my best to keep in touch and make sure we stay current with one another’s lives. I do this with email or phone calls, or even texts nowadays. The many forms of communication are a great help to me in my efforts

However, in my attempts to cherish I have learned that not everyone looks at life in the same way. For instance as in the tale of the monkey who fearing it would drown, so kindly put a fish into a tree, I try not offer help just because I think it is needed. I also must be mindful not to impose my values on a loved one who may have a perspective differing from mine. Most important, I must make sure think before I speak to hear what I am about to say and make sure that my words come across as loving. Sarcasm has never served me well, nor have clever comments or observations that may unintentionally wound. Cherishing takes many forms; being mindful is an important one

 

I love to hear from readers and I do cherish each and every one of you.

Spring is a Time for Awakening

Maple ree flowers and leaves 1Though I am fonder of some than of others, for me every season has its unique blessings. Autumn has always been a favorite of mine because I like the crispness of the air and the vivid colors that paint the scenery. However, the cycle of the seasons produces different feelings in everyone and we all have our favorites. It may be that as a poet I am more sensitive to or pay more attention to the change of the seasons because I feel it so keenly. Winter for me is a time for rest and often for extra sleep. The dark hours encourage it. During the winter, like the bare branched trees and the hibernating creatures, I am less active and more inclined to quieter occupations.

It’s easy to sleep late in the winter. The light does not come through the curtains until morning is well advanced. Chilly weather does not encourage leaving warm covers for frigid floors. Yet as the light hours grow longer and the dark ones shorter, the day calls to me sooner and sooner. Reluctant as I may be to get up from my bed, it becomes less alluring to linger than to rise into the day. Even as the trees and the birds greet the brightening weeks, with the spring, something in me begins to wake up.

Winter encourages me to make soups and stews. My pantry and refrigerator are stocked with warming foods. With the advance of spring I think more about salads and lighter meals. I toss the cold weather recipes that I have accumulated yet not found time to make and clip out more recent ones geared to fresher, less sturdy meal components. Now that I can see it, when I look around at the winter dust on shelves and surfaces, I feel more diligent about eliminating it. Somehow when I can’t see it, it is so much easier to ignore. Now it no longer is.

When I was out and about, my eyes had become accustomed to bare trees sleeping in the cold. All winter I admired the still shapes of the bare branches against the sky. Now as the trees blossom and leaf out, they seem to be dancing with joy. The spring breezes flutter the trees’ new emerging clothing as they dress themselves in their fresh spring wardrobes. When I go about my errands, my heart sings along with the turning wheels of my car.

When I used visit my daughter in Italy, she would come into my room of a morning to waken me from my jet-lagged sleep. She would open the curtains and turn to me as I clung to my pillow. “Wakey, wakey,” she’d say with a smile. Finally I’d open my eyes and greet the day, glad to be awake and alive, ready for a new adventure. Spring feels like that. It is time to pursue the new, the untried, the innovative. Time to put away the darker, heavier winter clothes and put on light, bright colors and fabrics, to free the feet of boots and don sandals. Time to awaken to the new season and to rejoice in it.