spring

under the cover of wind and rain, 

spring creeps into Seattle

This is kind of how I feel, hope (cling to) as I trudge beneath the heaviness that is divorce.  Somewhere in me is spring, again.  Somewhere in me is new life, spark, spirit, and a happy future.  I'm not feeling that eager bloom today.  Today I merely covet a seed under dark skies.

our other favorite heroine - Merida

As soon as Tangled ends, we put on Brave, and once Brave ends, we're back to Tangled…

Brave appeals to me a little more.  At this unsteady cusp of transition in my life, something about Merida's story awakens, inspires, encourages me.  Merida knows her mind and her strength.  Through a challenging journey she learns compassion and humility and love.  Her happily ever after remains to be written; it isn't sealed in the movie with a betrothal.  I want a story like that for my next chapter.

We will run and scream
You will dance with me
We'll fulfill our dreams
And we'll be free
We will be who we are
And then heal our scars
Sadness will be far away

"… Mommy, I want to watch Merpunzel, now, please…"

Saturday morning

I'm still recovering from a vulnerability hangover here.

a little reminder (for me & for you) about the Power of Vulnerability:

replenish

Little N goes to his dad's on Saturday afternoon and stays overnight, giving me time to catch up on all the things that are hard to do with a Little N claiming my attention.  Bills get paid, housework done, and little pockets of time for me to replenish me. A friend planted the thought in my mind about the grace mothers extend to themselves.  I think carving out time for our own replenishment, in the midst of competing demands from our littles, is one of the ways that we practice grace for ourselves as mothers. 

Why, yes, they do make coloring books for grown-ups. 

So I started doing some reading about self-care.  Seems there are three tiers to it.  The immediate needs of food, shelter, etc.  The pause and relaxation needs of my coloring books or a visit to the spa.  And the soul needs, perhaps my most neglected and the most deeply replenishing.

The busyness of my days is how I secure the first level needs of home and hearth for me and Little N.  The pauses come when he's over at his dad's place.  And the soul time?  I almost prefer housework to soul work these days; it's finite and achievable as opposed to the other thing.

But I've also been reading and thinking a lot about mothering as a spiritual practice.  About the unity of sacred and mundane.  And I think the difference between these two spheres and/or the sameness they share arises from the intention we bring to our mundane work of home and hearth and parenting and pause.

Can I retain calm with Little N when he ever-so-deliberately pees all over the floor?  Not super likely, but I'm working on it.  Can I maintain a focus-in-the-moment in the overwhelming heap of laundry to be folded?  Sometimes.  Can I release my mind from the trainload of concerns and emotions while filling in coloring pages?  Getting there, once I turn off the soothing distractions of Netflix.

I'm not sure why sitting with my soul is challenging to me right now.  But I do believe that if I bring the intention of soul work to my tasks and to my pauses they will be soulful.

ack! but now Little N is home and my pause is ended… can I practice soulful presence in the rest of the day's parenting?  :-)

self portrait Sunday: overwhelm

plumbing repairs throughout our apartment building have rendered some 

holes in the ceiling, layers of dust, sniffles, inconvenience and rearranged stuff in our little home.

kiddo doesn't seem to mind, and chimes right in adding his own mayhem to the mix

"Mommy, I'm an Angry Bird!"

the Christmas tree is up, a little beacon of love, light, and hope 

Little N's daddy showed up with wrapped presents to add to the festiveness

(a few more things for the workmen to navigate and coat with dust)

my table is a clutter-magnet with forms to complete, bills to pay, correspondence to reply to, documents to file or shred and general "where should this go? drop it on the table for now…" mess

which is to say I'm tired and overwhelmed and nothing is perfect or tidy or at my fingertips and everything looks like another chore to do or simply out of my control

and all these projects feel like dead ends in the labyrinth to what I really want to be doing, 

the good work that my heart would really be in, some heartfelt vocation beyond 

day-job, housework, parenting, sanity

but Little N is happy and oblivious to Mommy's drama

L and I have called a truce (again), so maybe we'll be able to talk to each other 

without it exploding into harsh voices and an upset Little N,

there's fresh coffee brewing,

and plenty of places to start in making things right in my little world and plenty to let go of.

gratitude Sunday: the little pauses

This weekend I'm catching my breath in the overwhelm of single mom-ness.

Little N went to his dad's on Friday so I got a little time to hang out with Miss A - and she introduced me to Netflix streaming and Call The Midwife (love!) (I signed myself up Saturday and started watching immediately).  Little N missed me so his dad brought him home Saturday morning.  It was a grey downpour day.  I managed to get some chores done while kiddo watched Tangled (4 times in a row?) (funny & exciting Every Time!), practiced his writing, and crashed around out on the deck.  L came back to get Little N Sunday afternoon for a few hours giving me a little more time for Call The Midwife and some batch cooking for my greatly anticipated Whole30.

I don't expect there's some great relief coming to me.  I expect that these little pauses are what I can hope for and rest in and savor when I get them.  I do experience these odd waves of emotion in the quiet hours alone.  A feeling that says something like, "I shouldn't have to do this alone.  I should have a partner in this."  This being parenting, at least, and maybe life as a whole.  But in these same alone pauses, which I am grateful for, I also know that I'm not alone.  Little N is with his dad.  I am connected to friends and family near and far who care and are thinking of me and Little N as we make our way through this.  It's not the same as a partner.  It's not the same as a best friend next door.  But it matters and I find myself counting on it.  Just as I've come to count on these little pauses.

learning how to be friends

gratitude Sunday: Dharma school

Little N with a few of the outdoor Buddhas.  All decorated with beads, flowers, and bits of nature.

This was our second week a Dharma school and we still love it.  It's a class for children but they welcome parents to remain as well.  So far it's been super basic instruction to Buddhism necessary for guests (newcomers?) like me and Little N.  There were about 12 kids today and about 10 last week, so it's a healthy class size even in summer.  We learned to Take Refuge, which is a series of prayer gestures and prostration.  We practiced some simple meditation.  Listened to several jatakas, which are parables the Buddha told about kindness.  We learned to be calm, respectful, kind, compassionate. During one chant the children join the adults in the Shrine room upstairs.  It's a clumsy lovely thing of children making prostrations down the center aisle to sit in a special section at the front of the room and chant with the adults and monks.  Then as the children leave they are each given a piece of candy.

spinning the prayer wheels, releasing thousands of prayers

Dharma school is held in a multi-purpose room that also leads to the kitchen and the Dharma Shop. The room is dimly lit and cool. You can hear the chanting of the adults in the Shrine room above us. We sit in a circle on a plush rug.   Incense occasionally wafts through on the air.  And it's a busy room!  People passing through from the Shrine room, the clanks and clatter of folks in the kitchen preparing tea and treats for after service, the doorbell chiming, and intermittent conversations in English and other languages.  I have to practice to remain focused and calm in the midst of all the distractions.

showing off his new mala

One of the Dharma school teachers made a point of telling me that this monastery loves children.  She was raised Buddhist and carefully looked for a place to raise her children in the tradition as well.  Her three kids sit in the circle with me and Little N and the others.  Her youngest fidgets and acts up and makes Little N laugh.  We shush them back into quietness and sitting cross-legged.  I hover and manage Little N, as I slowly learn that it's ok for him to be a child here.  He is welcome here.

my new mala

My Christian family members likely won't be excited to learn that I'm bringing Little N to Dharma school.  That I'm essentially rooting his spiritual foundation in Buddhism.  I've tried bringing him to Christian churches and he just cried and fretted and hated it.  And allow me to own that my insides cry and fret and hate a lot of what goes on in a lot of Christianity.  But I needed and wanted to find some place and community and tradition in which to teach and connect Little N with reverence and values and good folks.  Something about our neighborhood Tibetan Buddhist monastery resonates with him.

Something about the newness of me to it makes it work for me too.  I have no baggage about the Buddha and his followers.  I have no preconceived notions about Buddhism nor Tibet.  It's all brand new for me.  That's fresh and bright and amazing.  I'm learning alongside my son.  Parent enough to gauge that what we are learning is what I want for him - kindness, compassion, respect.  Novice enough to share in his delight and awe.

My only worry or caution about this essay into Buddhism, is that we don't turn out to be some kind of religious tourists.  I want to be respectful and sincere.  I want to share in what the monks are offering and find a way to give back, a way to convey our gratitude to them.  I want to be part of the community that they have planted here.

self portrait Saturday: upright

It's enough just to stay upright,

upright in every way,

And pour your love into your children,

til there's nothing left to say.

- Ani Difranco

  

I want to live upright.  These recent weeks of listing and limping along has set me eager for an upright life.  To me that means something about self care and the discipline to hold to that course.  I'm feeling better in the last 48 hours and I'm optimistic that I'm back on track.  My head and my heart have cleared some.  I'm eating nutritiously, have set down the cigarettes, am playing with my son, and pausing for a moment's gratitude and good will.

Of course today, a good day when the doom and gloom has just passed on, upright means more than how I care for me.  It encompasses the big values of environmental stewardship, social justice, advocacy for my son and others on the spectrum, global socio-economic awareness, etc... But let's not call back the clouds of doom and gloom.  Let's start with this good day.  Little N and I composted and recycled.  We ate mostly vegetarian.  We wore second hand clothes.  Yet, we weren't perfect or pure or holy.  I drove the station wagon across town adding to a variety of forms of pollution.  We played in a wading pool that could be considered a waste of water.  And right now our freshly laundered clothes are spinning around in our dryer, rather than being hung out to dry on a line somewhere.

Because that's just how my life is these days.  I yield to some of the conveniences of contemporary life and culture the same way that I yield to passing storms of hard feelings.  I expect that I won't be "upright in every way."  I think, I hope, that's where we lean on grace.  The grace of good friends who email me with encouraging words and acceptance of where I'm at.  The grace of city-wide collection systems that make doing the right thing (compost, recycling) convenient.  The grace of divine (?) forgiveness, of self (?) forgiveness, for all the time when "inconvenient" or "culturally inappropriate" renders doing the right thing "impossible" and left undone.  The grace of clarity and retrospect to try again or simply to call on grace and apologize to whoever is paying attention for where I'm still not quite upright.

gratitude Sunday: these two together

That's our Beloved Miss A and Little N together back in December 2012.  Probably neither one of them likes this photo but I love it.  Today when we got back from her place, after saying goodbye to her for the next month as she'll be traveling Back East and Beyond, Little N demanded to see a photo of her.  "I like her!  I want to see her!"  I recalled this image and pulled it up onto the screen.  He settled down.

 "You can call me," she says, as we make our goodbyes.  She'll be with family and old friends and thousands of miles away and I can't imagine interrupting all that with my concerns.  But she offered it and she meant it.

When she returns things should be in full swing.  L moving out.  Little N getting ready for kindergarten.  Me taking time off to settle into new habits and a new way of life.  Her bringing back all her memories and feelings from her trip.  I have no idea, today, where our lives will really be in a month.  But I'm looking forward to seeing these two together again.  Might be time for a new photo.

self portrait Saturday: the "D" word

L and I have decided to divorce. 

It's hardly a surprise to folks that really know us.  We've been struggling over what to do with our relationship for the last two years.  Then, the "D" word was an "or else."  Now, it's a settled calm. 

I thought the hard part was achieving a shared decision in shared timing.  But there's a lot that's hard about divorcing.  A great heap of decisions looms before us to sift through and settle.  There are conclusions to be reached together before stepping into lives apart.  That's a challenge, as we in many ways already live separate lives, with separate values, friendships, interests, and points of view.

But it's a hopeful time too.  Of relief and peace and new beginnings.  Of honesty and living lives that are more open and true to who we each are.  Of recognizing what we share - both of us in love with Little N and committed to his happiness.

So I find myself in a mixed season of crisp brown endings and tender green beginnings all intermingled.  My mixed emotions rush and hiccup and pause and flow.  Facades fade and fumble.  So it's also a whole rich vibrant season of truth and reality.  And that gives me the courage, the peace, and the energy to continue on this new and unfamiliar path.

endings, beginnings, & limbo

L and I had an interesting conversation last night.  I said to him, "We don't need to talk about it all now, and it will probably require multiple conversations, but here's what I'm thinking.  We are good friends, we're good parents, and we're lousy partners for each other and we need to figure out what's next."  He looked at me and immediately replied that he'd been thinking the same thing.

I felt relief and something like happiness.  To be on the same page.  To not struggle at this point.  To have a place to go forward from. Probably the "D" word that we aren't saying yet.

gratitude Sunday: kindness & strangers

Last night was way too exciting for me and Little N. 

It started with a thwarted trip to the beach, complete with a screaming meltdown (Little N, not me).  It ended with us rolling along home on a spare tire.  Throughout the evening we were met with kindness and helpfulness.  When we finally made it home, at 10:30PM,  we enjoyed some chocolate cake before falling deep into sleep.  I'm  hoping future Saturday nights are less eventful.  I'm grateful for the goodness and humor we met last night, and the reassurance it offers about the folks with whom we share this city, this world.

old friends, new friends

This is Little N and Little C.  

I've known Little C's mom since we were 5 years old.  And now our boys know each other.  

With a little effort and coordination on us moms' part, these two will be old friends someday too.

gratitude Sunday

L caught this photo of me & Little N this morning

Today's gratitude is books.  The big colorful ones that Little N studies and the new classics that line my summer reading list.

I've just discovered a Master's program that I would love to do.  It's called Transforming Spirituality and  it's a great fit for many of my interests.  But another graduate degree isn't viable for me and my family right now.  We just don't have the resources (time and money).

So I've started scouring the internet for ideas on what to be reading and doing instead of this degree.  I've located and printed a number of syllabi from women's spirituality courses and feminism and religion classes.  Then it was on to Goodreads and Amazon for book lists.  Finally a quick stop to the local Goodwill to see if any of my new reading material appeared on their shelves.  And a few did!

The next months, and years, will include lots of reading.  But there's more as well.  As resources become more flexible I'd like to find a spiritual director or maybe even do the SEEL program and maybe through them become trained as a spiritual director.

There's plenty of time to explore more options for direction and directing.  Mostly what I'm excited about is having some clarity about the direction and commitment I want to make.  I talked to L about this plan and he was engaged and supportive.  Not because this is his sort of interest, it's not.  But because it is a good match for what I'm about and what we as a family can support in a real way - that still engages me.  I'm not on pause.  I'm on "diy."  And it feels pretty good.

self care for major depression

May is Mental Health Awareness Month.  I have a mental illness - treatment resistant major depression.  In light of this month's awareness campaign, and inspired by Caitlin Marcoux's 10 Practical Steps for the First 10 Days of Cancer, I've been thinking about 10 of the self care tools I use to live with depression.

1) Go to the doctor, take my meds, treat my side effects:
There's no good reason to suffer from depression.  You can feel good.  You are allowed to feel good and to function fully in your life.

It's taken me a long time to be able to say that.  Mostly I just struggled on my own.  I dipped into therapy every 5 years or so and tried some medication once or twice.  But now that I'm a mom I feel even more sensitive about taking care of myself, including my moods and feelings.  I want to be whole, present, and engaged with my son, in a way that I didn't commit to my own life prior to him, not even with a partner.  Looking back I can only imagine how my relationships and career path could have been different, better, more true, had I enlisted a doctor to help me manage my depression.

Now I take 3 medications.  It's not perfect.  Depression breaks through. Side effects annoy me and require remedies.  It's an ongoing conversation with my psychiatrist.  But most days I feel better and it's certainly better to have someone facing it with me.

2) Tell the people close to me:
This one is particularly challenging for me.  There's no casual way to broach the subject in conversation.  Plus, there's still a stigma about mental illness that makes me not want to bring it up.  I do talk to my husband about it.  It helps him to know what to expect or how to understand my behavior or expression.  In return, sometimes he is the one to notice a pattern and nudge me back to the doctor's office for some help.

3) Move my body:
My new lunch break favorite activity is walking the mile from my office to bridge, running up the stairs, and then jogging back to the office.  It gets me out of the muck of the j-o-b.  Gets my endorphins up a little.  Wakes up my mind and my metabolism.  All good things for someone wrangling depression.

4) Establish healthy routines:
This one is best initiated on a good day.  I've set up some habits that make my life easier and require less conscious effort on a bad day. Some of them are packing my food for work the night before, listening to an affirmation meditation during the bus ride to the office, and exercising on my lunch break.  At their best, these habits also ensure that I'm continuing to live the way I want to live, despite what I might feel like doing (or not doing).  For example, on a bad day I might feel like eating junk food and not feel like eating nutritious food, but bringing some healthy food to the office makes it easy to eat the good stuff anyway.

5) Eat nutritious food:
It might be obvious - nutritious food is good for your body.  But on a bad day I really don't feel like eating healthfully, or doing anything that's good for me.  Committing to nutritious food is a commitment to my life and my health, regardless of how I feel.  And with the right choices, I might feel better.  There is some connection between diet and mood.

6) Practice yoga:
This is more than moving my body.  Yoga makes me feel like all the parts of my body are coordinated and working together.  But it also works on my mind, synching everything up, opening me for greater clarity and calm.  It's a bright little harbor in the midst of this storm.

7) Participate in therapy:
It's not easy to find a good match with a therapist.  I've had two, including my current therapist, that really "got" me and were able to both affirm me and challenge me in meaningful ways.  Good therapy helps me to untangle from my "stinkin thinkin," uncover patterns in my family and other relationships, and engage a sounding board to hear how I talk about myself, my feelings, and my life.

8) Collect evidence:
I use my day planner to keep track of what I do and how I feel.  I jot down things like what I eat and drink and my emotions (or lack of them) over the course of a day.  Then I can notice patterns, like a string of bad days or particular behavior that continues to appear and make a decision about what to do about it.  It also helps me to see when and what I've done well and what works to make me feel and do right for myself.

9) Inhabit time with good people:
Depression and isolation go hand-in-hand.  It's like being seen and communicating with other people just takes more energy and interest than I possess.  That said, the right people can be a balm.  And the exercise of getting out, hearing other people's lives, and sharing what I can of my own keeps me connected, affirming my value and visibility.

10) Indulge in creature comforts: 
comfy clothes and clogs, chocolate, '80s synth-pop on Pandora, plants, multi-colored pens, a favorite mug (usually half-full of coffee), walking on the beach, and hanging out with my guys.

I'm not successful in practicing all of these every day.  Some days all I get to is my creature comforts.  But having the list in front of me every day, in my day planner, puts good ideas in my head.  It encourages me to try these things regardless of how I feel.  Some days moving my body or sitting with some friends makes me feel better, other days I just get to tick off the list that I lived the way I wanted to despite depression.

the end of a long day

These are long dog-tired days for me.  I have yet to shed the low feelings of last week.  But this ~

~ this makes me feel a little better at the end of the day.  Little N chose this park for his after-we-pick-up-mommy play time last night.  Instead of resuming my yoga practice, I came along, grateful for the sunshine, salty air, and good company of my guys.  And so, there is hope.

******

That hope seems out of reach today, back in the office, where there are expectations of performance that I don't feel like I can meet.  Reasonable expectations that still appear beyond my ability for today.  I limp along under heavy feelings and a foggy mind.  Every sound distracts and upsets me, reasonable office conversations, the pitter-patter of fingers on keyboard, the shuffle of feet on the carpeted floor.  I want to walk out of the office and be alone.  I want to sit still, cover my ears, cry.

I daydream about what would heal me.  A proper vacation, probably alone but maybe with my guys for part of it.  Slow motion days of sunshine, surf, and lots of fruit.  A hammock.  A cool dark room.  A day (a week?!) of being taken care of more than taking care of others and stuff.

But I sit up straight and pretend to be working.  This workday will end in a couple of hours and then I'll go to the psychiatrist's office and talk it all out.  Maybe my meds need to be adjusted.  Maybe I just need to talk.  Maybe I'll feel well someday.

Well enough to do good work more days than not.  To hold off on the binges that don't comfort me the way I imagine that they will.  To sit still at my desk and accomplish tasks amidst the sounds and distractions of reasonable office mates.  To live a happy, healthy lifestyle.

*****

I keep going back to Caitlin Marcoux.  Her photos inspire me to live more healthfully and to plan and maintain healthy routines to manage my depression, similar to the way that she is navigating her cancer.  It's probably unfair to say that depression is my "cancer" (metaphorically), but today unfair is also true.  Depression is taking my life away from me, taking me away from my family and friends.  I need to beat it.  I need to live well despite it.  I need to hear a lesson in it and then grow and thrive anyway.

Caitlin posted two quotes in the last week that are bees in my bonnet.  Humming. Stinging.  Distracting me.

"What I need for healing is already present in my system."~Leslie Kaminoff

"No one can listen to your body for you. 

To grow and heal you have to take responsibility for listening to yourself."~Jon Kabat-Zinn

Could these possibly be true for depression too?  Is there some healing available in my system (my body? my family? my spirit? my friendships?)?  If I listen to my body will it lead me in healing this?  is that what Dr. L means when she tells me to "go inside?"  I'm so tired.  My listening to myself is muddy with doubt, despair, fatigue.  Surely there's yet a still small voice of insight waiting for me to hear it and be healed.  

day 2

Day 2 with the new meds.  I woke up rested, alert, and ready to do some stuff.  Little N ran into the bedroom for a snuggle and stretch to start the day.  I'm not sure if it's strictly the meds or a little extra sleep last night, but I'm happy to feel well this morning.

Saturday mornings are time for coffee and yogurt out on the sunny balcony these days.  Last year this space was largely mine.  This year I'm sharing it with one little person in particular.

and I'm tucked into whatever nooks are left.

I'm pretty content to sit back and watch his work.

and look!  My little garden continues to grow.  These will be Morning Glories with magenta, blue, and purple flowers.  They'll be planted in pots out on the balcony and twine up around the bars of the railing.  I'm so happy with how well they're doing.

day 1

a few sights from the walk in to the office this morning

 

I started new meds this morning.  Holding onto my optimism that they will bring some improvement.

steeple with a church

"Look!  a steeple!"  We have walked past this church countless times in the year since we moved to this neighborhood.  We've talked about it in reference to the blue steeple that rises up from it.  So when, after studying their website (http://www.woodlandparkumc.org/) we decided to visit on Sunday, we told Little N we were finally going in the building with the steeple.  He declared it, the steeple with a church.  

And we liked it.  

I was first impressed by their work in the community.  It's a small congregation with lots of personality but probably not a lot of resources.  Even so, what they have is shared with folks in need and with a view to justice and sustenance.  A lot of this work is conveyed on their website, but what I needed to hear and to see is what they were like on Sunday morning.

The sermon was smart, balanced, contextualized the Scripture passage, conveyed a message relevant to us today.  The people were very welcoming, eager to greet new faces, and chat with us - and seemed to share that same warmth with everyone in the space.  I didn't experience any instant connections or feel like I found my niche socially, but Little N joined right in at the kids table during coffee hour!  He even gnawed on a piece of banana like the other kids, something he never does at home!

My dad always said you need to try a new place 3 times before you make a decision about it.  So far I like what these people are about, I like that they are in my immediate neighborhood and do good work here, my next question is do I and our family fit there.  (Will I make any new friends?  Will we become regulars, seen and heard, seeing and hearing, there?  Can I be part of the good work?)  I am hoping for connection and looking for my role in connecting.