Power

Reminders for a Strange Time

January 26, 2017

Things to remember at the end of the world.

When the world is ending, or you are afraid that it might end, or the country has come under the leadership of a misogynistic, racist, climate-change denying, money and power worshiping wall builder, there are things to do.  Think of this as a little list, a card plucked from the seat back in front of you, the one with helpful instructions for survival as the plane is plummeting.

Of course, this list is my list. Yours will be different. It’s incomplete and rough.  But it helps me remember that there are things I can do everyday that keep me moving, that give me perspective, that anchor me in truth.  The main thing: Donald Trump is not God. This is good to bring to mind on cold mornings when I wake up with a sick stomach, thinking about the news from the day before, especially when there is little hope that it will improve anytime soon.

On those mornings, I try to remember , in no particular order, to:

Drink some extra water. Maybe add lemon. Have a cup of tea. Skip the sugar.  Sugar is not my friend.

Go outside. Marvel at the water that has poured out of the sky, water that has made a creek in the backyard where there didn’t used to be one. Find the little boat left over from the kids’ preschool years and put some Lego guys in it. Launch them out on a new adventure.

Feed the birds. There are several feeders outside, some with seed, some for hummingbirds. They weren’t expensive. They bring so much joy. Watch the birds- stellar jays chickadees, and finches. See how they share and make room for each other. Listen to them sing.

Cook some real food, something that smells wonderful and can go in the crock pot in the morning.  Curry or vegetable soup are favorites.

Visit the library.  Look at the rows and rows of books and realize that there is still a lot to learn.  Find a book on chowders, and vow to cook something new tonight.  Listen to the librarians at the desk behind you, so polite to everyone who comes through. Even the people who try their patience and make you a little crazy. Watch the mothers bring in their toddlers for story time, and give thanks for books that tell truth in picture form.

Take a spoonful or two of coconut oil.  Coconut oil is full of healthy fats, they say. It’s brain food. This is more important than ever.

Read the daily Ziglar self-talk affirmations.  Print them for free from the Ziglar website.  Zig said to read them twice a day, first thing in the morning and last thing before bed.  The affirmations remind all of us that we are honest, intelligent, organized, responsible, committed and teachable.  Try not to think too much about how the news would be different if Trump was more like Zig.

Exercise. Outside if possible.

Text a friend. Call a friend.  At the same time,  limit social media. Repeated scrolling through the news on my Facebook feed just makes me sad.  I want to be aware, but compulsive checking can’t be helpful. Trump is only doing what he said he would do.  The Republicans are doing what they promised, too. It breaks my heart that part of that promise includes repealing regulations that protect forests and streams from coal mining. Because clearly that’s just horrible, right?

Go to bed. Get some extra sleep.

Get up early. Center. Journal.

And this. Always this.  Don’t be afraid.  I remind myself that we are in this together.  I remember that I am not alone.

What would you add? What practices are your touchstones these days?

 

Presence

Letter in the Mail

January 19, 2017

My mom got a letter in the mail the other day. It had my aunt’s return address on it.  She was my dad’s younger sister, my mom’s sister-in-law. My mom opened it, expecting to have a letter from her.  Instead, there was a note inside from one of my cousins. She wrote, “Our lovely mother passed away. It was her wish not to have a memorial.”  There was no return address for either of my cousins.

We lost my dad five years ago, but my mom kept in touch with my aunt. They didn’t talk often, but they shared memories, history, and people that they loved. My mom last spoke with my aunt in September and wished her a happy birthday.

I am glad my cousins let us know about my aunt’s passing, but I wish they would have left a way for us to contact them. It is hard to see any good coming from the death of a loved one, but renewed communication could be one small light.  I lost my aunt. Was there a way to gain my cousins?  I have fond memories of them. My youngest cousin is just a few months older than I am. They grew up in Southern California. My family moved to Northern California when I was 3.  They visited us there, at least once. I remember a trip to the snow.  We saw them every summer, at least until my grandmother passed away. My younger cousin was an expert gymnast and did cartwheels and flips. I could barely do a forward somersault, much less a backwards one. They were very, very cool.

I’m not sure why we didn’t keep in touch better. I think my dad may have alienated their family by sharing the Gospel in a possibly awkward way. He was a devoted Baptist, and I can remember him writing letters that shared his faith and maybe his fear that they might go to hell. Also, I know my aunt and uncle once tricked my parents into attending an Amway presentation.  Nonetheless, over the years my dad and his sister worked through their faith and multi-level marketing differences. They talked on the phone, exchanged birthday cards, and were fond of each other.  When my dad was dying, my aunt was in touch, nearly every day.

Family can be tricky.  I know that sometimes it is healthy and smart to break ties with the people that raised us. I also think, though, that there is something deep there, that blood ties are old ties, and that there is power in connecting with people who knew us when we were small. I would at least like to say hello to my cousins, these strangers who shared my grandma and grandpa, who called my dad uncle.  Maybe mistakes were made, but there is always the hope of forgiveness. Maybe everyone just got busy, wrapped up in jobs and friends and children.  Years have been lost, but there is still time.  I could track down an address, do some searching on Facebook, write a note back to my cousins at my aunt’s old address.  Maybe all it would take is a simple hello.