September Retreat

on retreat in September in north Georgia

"The best things in life are nearest: Breath in your nostrils, light in your eyes, flowers at your feet, duties at your hand, the path of right just before you. Then do not grasp at the stars, but do life's plain, common work as it comes, certain that daily duties and daily bread are the sweetest things in life." 
~Robert Louis Stevenson

self-portrait on a leisurely walk around the lake 

I think many times we often forget how the everyday simplicity of our lives hold the key to happiness. This year of writing with Lauryn has helped me discover how much pleasure I find when I simply notice what I am doing as I am doing it. It leads me to respond to my circumstances in a genuine way, bringing joy into my life. Just stopping and taking note of my breath. I can slow it down and focus on how grateful I am that I am here now. I always have tea candles to light and lighting them on a dreary day lifts my mood. The red flowers on the labyrinth path share their beauty for free as I walk the circuits in prayer.

sun-kissed foliage of red and green

It wasn't always so in my life. If there is any wisdom in living to be an elder in our society, I believe it is in the understanding of this principle. It makes for a twinge of saddness that my realization of this did not come sooner, but then I am reminded of all the days to come and I am grateful for the awakening, for it did not come too late.

Unbalanced

September usually marks a time in my life when I lose any semblance of balance between my work life and my non-work life. The start of the youth & teen program fall session at the dance organization where I work means that I work the first two weeks of the session straight.  This year was no different. I worked the Tuesday after Labor Day, the 5th through the 17th. Twelve days of working. Most of the time I was putting in 8 hour days, if not longer.

The over-achieving, workaholic is a standard image in our contemporary, western culture. Definitely within the corporate culture. I think it's just as bad in non-profit culture where I work. There is this idea that we have to sacrifice our lives for the good work we're doing. When there is a gap to be filled in, we jump in and roll up our sleeves. There's a constant idea of there being no money and no resources. You're supported by your ideals and the knowledge that what you're doing is important.

I have always had a strangely strong work ethic. I have been noted of going above and beyond in all of my jobs - student (6-22), receptionist (15), sales clerk (16), restaurant hostess (17-20), library circulation desk attendant (18-22), au pair (22), Americorps volunteer (23-24), non-profit arts administrator (24-29). I'm not saying I haven't slacked off or wasted time while on the clock. I read a romance novel at the library one semester that a professor had put on the holds shelf for a class during the downtime of my shifts. Note that I wasn't in the class. But, overall, I've always focused on being present and engaged in the workplace, which has served me in finding better and better jobs and employment.

So, when does this become a problem? When does being a good employee go beyond what's healthy? How do you say no when you know there is no one else there, and no money to hire someone to be there, to do the job? How do you stop being good at your job for the sake of being good to yourself?

Sweet and Lovely

I did not want to go. Labor Day weekend was coming up and plans were being made. "But you have to go!" says my daughter. My argument was sound. I had just started the first semester of graduate school and I had assignments due, so taking the whole weekend off to go to the beach seemed outrageously frivolous. I had my first paper due the following Tuesday. Her urgency and tone were clues that something else was up. When I discussed it with Terry, he seemed unconcerned and wanted me to lighten up about school. After all it is just the beginning of the semester. I am not sure anyone really appreciated then or even appreciates now, how truly scared I am about being able to handle the rigor of academic study. It has been 32 years since I was in college.

I did earn three certifications through my Montessori career in order to teach children ages 3-12 in that educational paradigm. But those courses of study were mastery level, in that we learned what we needed to know, and if we learned it, we earned it and there were no grades. One either passed or failed. Even that is not quite true, because there was always the opportunity to revisit what you had not quite mastered and show that you had learned it, so the only true failure would be if you gave up and decided to fail. This is not the case in university graduate school. There are reading assignments, periodic tests, quizes, due dates, participation grades, research papers, midterms and finals, all of which are part of your final GRADE. How you perform on these various evaluations determines how well you do. Sure, I am old enough and secure enough to know that my grade does not equate my self worth, but I am taking out loans to acquire knowledge and a skill set to begin a new career and I am not going to take it lightly. So I really was not enthusiastic about going to the beach for three days at all.

Then I found out the real reason for the trip and my perspective altered. It was not just another three days at the beach, but three days to celebrate my daughter's commitment to the special person in her life. A ceremonial act of joining two people in a common bond of love. It was not unexpected in the long run that these two young people that I care about would decide to make this kind of commitment. I was surprised at the timing, the pressing need, and the private nature of its unfoldment. On many levels it provided a wake up call for my responsibilities as a parent, a friend, a wife and yes, to a lesser degree, a student. The trip fulfilled its purpose as I fulfilled my role as both mother and a student of life's passages.

Circles

by Hafiz

The moon is most happy

When it is full.

And the sun always looks

Like a perfectly minted gold coin

That was just Polished

And placed in flight

By the Universe's playful Kiss.

And so many varieties of fruit

Hang plump and round 

From branches that seem like a Sculptor's hands.

I see the beautiful curve of a pregnant belly

Shaped by a soul within,

And the earth itself,

And the planets and the Spheres-

I have gotten the hint:

There is something about circles

The Beloved likes.

Dear Ones,

Within the Circle of a Perfect One

There is an Infinite Community

of Light.



The joy of drawing a labyrinth in the sand and witnessing Krista, Tommy, and Colton walk together, with Tommy leading them in and Krista leading them out, as I recited the Hafiz poem as a blessing, is in my heart forever. And so it is. 



the outdoors

My first backcountry backpacking/camping trip, ever, happened this Labor Day weekend. While I was a girl scout for many years growing up, we never actually went camping. I had never carried a pack, set up a tent, or done a dozen things that I did this weekend. 

Conversely, Martin was a boy scout. He went camping at least twice a year. One might say that this was an instance of him growing up in a rural area, while I grew up in a suburban area, but I don't think that's particularly accurate. I'm pretty sure boy scouts who lived in Roswell, GA went camping. I'm alos pretty sure that other girls who may or may not have been girl scouts but lived in Roswell, GA went camping growing up. 

Instead, I would say that camping was just not part of my family's lifestyle. My father and brother didn't go camping without us women-folk; they just didn't go camping. My parents never owned a tent. Our sleeping bags were the Rainbow Brite and My Little Pony style ones, not the keep you warm in under 30 degree weather kind.

And I think that my total and complete lack of camping and backpacking experience in the 80's and 90's actually may have been a good thing. You see camping gear used to be a lot heavier. A lot. And I was a tiny, tiny little thing growing up. While I loved the outdoors, I don't know that I would have loved hiking with a big external frame pack.

Now, they have ultra light tents and sleeping bags/pads that scrunch up into little bundles. Now, I have friends who have so much backpacking experience that they can lend us 95% of the gear we need to go. I think the only thing we actually had to buy was a pack for me because, as I mentioned, I'm kind of small. The best fit for me was actually a youth pack, not a women's pack.

I wonder if my parents went camping as children. I wonder if my brother and sister have been camping. I must say that I never perceived it as a lack growing up. But, I'm glad that, as an adult, I have had this experience. Sadly, it has made my non-consumerist goals much more difficult, because now I want to be able to do this on our own.

Getting out of the city. The silence of the evenings. The clean air. The easy tiredness in the evenings knowing that you have earned your rest. The sparkling fresh water of the mountain lake that we swam in. All of these things must be experienced again.