The dog next door is dying.
This evening, just as the boys and I were sitting down for dinner, my neighbor came over in tears and asked if we could watch her baby while they rushed the dog to the vet.
The rest of the evening I remembered how natural it feels to hold new life as I answered all of my sons' questions about life and death: "Why do we put dogs down and not people? What do babies make strange sounds? Can the baby go for a ride on the back of a motorcycle? Why has there been so much death in our lives recently?"
While one son fought back tears and the huge sadness that flows out of his heart sometimes, the other delighted in sharing his baby blanket with our new neighbor.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Welcome
It was foggy when I woke this morning.
I am still not used to this. The way it can be beautifully sunny one day - with views all the way out to the horizon - and then completely fogged in only a few hours later. They tell me that the one is a predictor of the other, the warm sun a sign that the valley is hot and drawing in moisture from the sea, but I still wake surprised.
Inside, my inner busy bee was suggesting projects before I even got out of bed. I tried to pray. But there she was trying to direct things. She speaks in a high pitched voice, this me. She's nice in that "work, work, work" kind of way. She likes to get things done.
I don't particularly like her.
David finds her amusing. I remember one day a while back when I was at his house. We'd had a wonderfully slow couple of days. On the last morning, I got up and started buzzing around.
He sat on the couch sipping his coffee and watched. Finally, he interrupted my inner work party with a joke. "Are we in a rush?"
In my journaling this morning, I did my best to welcome her. But her buzz was loud. "OK enough prayer. Let's get to work." I pushed her away and tried again to be "spiritual" but holding the barrier between her and me was hard work.
I put my pencil down and started moving around my house. I wasn't enjoying my inner dialogue and figured that if I wasn't going to be in a place of quiet today I might as well get some things done.
Another voice showed up. "Maybe welcoming this you is the work."
Imagine that.
For five or six years now I have followed the path of "welcome", greeting whoever I am on any given day without judgment. I try to, that is.
Welcoming me as I am is a trustworthy prayer discipline for me. It is what has gotten me through the train wreck/opening that has been my life these past few years. It is how I am learning to move beyond my default settings into the bigger silence and love.
I am still not used to this. The way it can be beautifully sunny one day - with views all the way out to the horizon - and then completely fogged in only a few hours later. They tell me that the one is a predictor of the other, the warm sun a sign that the valley is hot and drawing in moisture from the sea, but I still wake surprised.
Inside, my inner busy bee was suggesting projects before I even got out of bed. I tried to pray. But there she was trying to direct things. She speaks in a high pitched voice, this me. She's nice in that "work, work, work" kind of way. She likes to get things done.
I don't particularly like her.
David finds her amusing. I remember one day a while back when I was at his house. We'd had a wonderfully slow couple of days. On the last morning, I got up and started buzzing around.
He sat on the couch sipping his coffee and watched. Finally, he interrupted my inner work party with a joke. "Are we in a rush?"
In my journaling this morning, I did my best to welcome her. But her buzz was loud. "OK enough prayer. Let's get to work." I pushed her away and tried again to be "spiritual" but holding the barrier between her and me was hard work.
I put my pencil down and started moving around my house. I wasn't enjoying my inner dialogue and figured that if I wasn't going to be in a place of quiet today I might as well get some things done.
Another voice showed up. "Maybe welcoming this you is the work."
Imagine that.
For five or six years now I have followed the path of "welcome", greeting whoever I am on any given day without judgment. I try to, that is.
Welcoming me as I am is a trustworthy prayer discipline for me. It is what has gotten me through the train wreck/opening that has been my life these past few years. It is how I am learning to move beyond my default settings into the bigger silence and love.
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