Tongue in Cheek

Home Nest

                      

Creating a home is certainly more than creating a nest. It is more important to care for what is growing in the nest than the decoration around the "nest." Creating a home takes a great deal of devotion to the needs of those gathered. A nest of love is a soft steady place to land and it is a place where one can test their wings without fear. With that said I must tell you something I think you already know but nevertheless I need to say it... I love "doing" the decoration around the nest. I love nesting a home with all that feather fluff stuff even if it is just a detail to the larger picture of nesting.

                     

Creating a nest  is definitely something strong within my family's genetic code. I come from a long line of women who were crazy for decorating, who created their homes with old things, who shared nesting ideas and gave wing to expression as easy as breathing. Growing up I heard the chirping of my Aunts, and cousins who spent hours talking about home, garden, cooking and how to raise children. Growing up in a small rural town lent to this, but having generation of women who thrived in nest building gave me the flight map.

                   

Creating a Nest 101: First gather what you love. Honor it (home) as a prized possession. Let it sing to you and tell your family's story. Keep it tidy but not stuffy. Add humor in the details, and give room for dreams to hatch and freely fly.

Note: Feel free to add other ideas about Creating a Nest.

O' blue bird of happiness thank you for landing on my window sill, for singing your song, for showing me how to treasure the day. May we become a symbol of hope to one another, by the way we create our homes and give comfort to those who come our way.

                          

Photos: Taken around my cousin Judy's home-nest. Do you think she has a thing for birds and their nests? The above photo is of my cousin's "creative inspiration board" which she displays on her refrigerator door. Isn't it the best refrigerator door ever?!

The Journey to Knowing Love

One of the first signs that  person is falling in love is that the person smiles...alot...

Those who are lucky enough to know a person falling in love finds themselves in a whirlpool of emotions: A combination of happiness mixed with fear. Tenderness tossing around caution. A longing to peek in with sweetness while offering a listening ear.

If you are the parent of a child falling in love for the first time... well let me tell you it is a whole new arena of dos, don'ts and what ifs...and please tell me where is the book called: "What to Expect from Your First Child Falling in Love for the First Time?????" 

As the parent of such a person I feel like I am sitting in the nose bleed section: so far away yet ever too close. Wanting to cheer, and at the same time aware of the tings of passion that want to grab my baby and run back in time.

People who are falling in love are always touching one another too.

Ah the sparks of happiness, the fire that burns, the trusting that your child is growing up and experiencing those wonderful first moments of what it feels like to be loved outside of the family circle.

Yes it is good. Who knows what will happen, but for now it is a glorious journey towards knowing.

Wearing Red Roses is just the Beginning

A sure sign that you are falling in love is that you become more yourself, doing things you never dared to do... As if loving gives the heart courage to expand, opening one's desire to journey towards being one's very best self.

Photo: My daughter Chelsea with a red rose in her hair.

Seek and you shall Find

Fourth of July

May our freedom lead us

to love one another

no matter the differences

of color, faith or status.

Guiding us in hope, peace and gratitude.

May our liberty and independence

bond us together encouraging us to live

as one.

photo: Antique red white and blue ribbon.

Playing at the Edge

                      

Building blocks. Kate stacks them one at a time, slowly, precisely and yet she plays with them right at the edge of the table. Watching her play I see myself... with the stages of mourning. The building blocks like the activities of the day, slowly, with thought, and yet the depth of sorrow is at hand.

When someone asks me, "'How are you?" It is as if the simple question doesn't expect an answer... it is as if they are saying I care about you and I understand. I find myself saying I'm okay, and even though the pain is right at hand, their asking seems to momentarily take part of it away.

                                                          

Certainly having children around soothes the rough edges of grief. Their sweet innocence is a welcoming refuge. Sometimes the best medicine is a good book, a movie... an activity that takes your thoughts to another place... all the better if you can cuddle up with someone and let your mind wander together without having to converse.

The blessing of sorrow is the time of reflection it holds out to us. It challenges us to live life lovingly because it is too short to do otherwise. Those reflective thoughts present themselves like building blocks to being a better person: Have I said I am sorry? Have I showed my gratefulness? Have I offered my forgiveness? Yes, sorrow is a great motivator...even if it is one moment at a time, slowly, precisely and playing at the edge.

                                              

                    

Seed Affirmation

                         

One word uttered... Brave.            

Have you ever been given a "seed affirmation"? A seed affirmation is when someone says something to you and you feel it take root, and grow inside you. The one word affirmation sets wave to transformation. 

What one word seed affirmation would you give yourself today?

                                                         

Looking Glass

                       

Under a looking glass things are magnified. The little girl sits and looks upward. Curious how her feelings are not just a heart on sleeve, but literally heart in hand. How she longs to stuff them in a pocket and tell them to hush.

But the magnifying glass does not play such childish games. Instead it hints to look closer and remain sensitive. In doing so she begins to see that her feelings do not change. They remain heart on sleeve, and in hand dripping nearly everywhere, in the grocery store, at the stoplight, opening the closet, seeing an old friend, folding clothes, in the day to day moments of here and now. Nothing has changed yet nothing remains the same.

This is much harder than what I expected. Did I expect anything easy? The intensity of the senses exposes life in extraordinary detail... magnificent and frightening, raw and subtle, ah the aspects of grieving! Moving forward does not mean moving away. One can protect the tender spot and learn to live with it.

The looking glass sees the child leans in and says,"Come look life is here and so is your father, he is not gone... let's see him with new eyes."

I certainly hope so as she holds on tightly.

Photo: My friend Lauren's artwork. She made me this piece long ago.

 

 

 

A Broken Window where Flowers Bloom

                              

The broken window remains open to the light.

It does not surrender its gift, its purpose...and by doing so it is open to new life.

Have you seen where brokenness creates compassion?

May my heart be open to such grace.

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Drop, drop– in our sleep, upon the heart

sorrow falls, memory’s pain,                  

and to us, though against our very will,

even in our own despite,                      

comes wisdom,                                    

by the awful grace of God.

HAMILTON’S 1937 AESCHYLUS (Agamemnon 179-183)

Acceptance

What if...

I should have...

If only...

                                                         

Kübler-Ross lists that there are five stages that a grieving person goes through. The five stages she states follow a progression: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.

I woke up around 7am this morning. Opening one eye I saw my mom dusting my bed frame. I asked, "Mom are you dusting or am I dreaming?" She replied through a steady stream of sadness, "I just have to keep busy."

Keeping busy is one way to cope with the sense of loss. Though I dream of sleeping. Both are part of denial and eventually acceptance.

Since it is part of my Mother's culture that after the death of a loved one a person dresses in black or navy as a way to show respect and give a sign of mourning: I have been wearing mostly black too. Mostly because the other day I walked into the kitchen and my mom looked at my feet. My eyes followed her eyes to my red shoes. I saw the red flash its bright color and thought to myself...oops and quickly kicked off my shoes.

Because the stages of grief look and act differently on each person I think a black ribbon around one's arm was a good idea that the last generation had and used to signify a person in mourning.

Each person must find their way to express the depth of emotion, to process the many thoughts that come with loss. Kübler-Ross has defined them, though we must learn to ride the wave without drowning.

When my boyfriend died many years ago I ate a dozen glazed donuts in one sitting. With each bite I grew more angry thinking to myself, "Nothing matters, I can do what I want! In the end nothing matters." After wards I went to Mass with a bloated stomach, a very angry heart and under my breath called God every bad word imaginable several times over. I waited for some sort of punishment to strike me. I even dared God to strike me.

In the end being angry at God was healing too. I saw that my anger was at me...

Life is unfair, I am not perfect, and still love happens. The real miracle after all is accepting that as painful as life and death can be it is worth every phase it takes to becoming whole and loving again and again.