A Slice of Life

Motivations

Yesterday for lunch I went to the basement of Old St. Pat's Church in Chicago's West Loop and listened to folks holler and sing and clap and whoop and thank God for their lives. It was the Cara program's annual lunch where a handful of lost souls to addiction, crime and other afflictions share their stories, tell of their heroes and are generally deeply grateful to having regained themselves again. These are people -- men, women, young, middle-aged, white, black, and lots of other things -- who have come through this program that is very strict, yet very nurturing and found jobs, rebuilt relationships with their families and dug deep inside their souls to recapture their true selves.

I sat through this two-hour event mesmerized, grateful and in awe of Cara, the people who have successfully gone through the program and  life itself. What brings people to such abysses in their lives where they self-destruct through drugs, crime or something else? Why can some people weather the most frightening and eviscerating events in their lives and not wind up hurting themselves? It's strange how some people face staggering odds and somehow find it within themselves to triumph without first flinging themselves into the deep abyss.

Listening to these people made me grateful for the comparatively minor bumps in my life. On the ride home, I thought life has not always treated me the way I would like, but I have never been dealt such a blow that I have fallen off my game.  It's just another thing for which I am grateful.

Seeing

I had the most interesting five days. I have discovered I can see again. It's not that I was physically blind. Over the years, I had buried the ability to see sensually.

Last Thursday I was flipping through a pdf of one of my staff's side projects -- a photography book she was designing for her sister-in-law's senior thesis project. As I clicked through page after page of type and photos I felt this delicious feeling. it was almost like I was eating a huge ice cream sundae doused with plenty of hot fudge. I was absorbing everything -- the design of the type, the vibrancy of the photos of graffiti artists and their work.

Yesterday, I went to the art institute to see Edward Munch's exhibit. I felt as I gazed from painting to woodcut and back to painting again that I was satisfying some insatiable hunger. I was struck by the color, the composition, the brush strokes. I felt almost blissful. I haven't enjoyed art so much ever. My friend and I then strolled over to Macy's and we rubbed body butter on our hands and then found our way into the Apothecary. I discovered a table of wildly scented candles and I opened each different aroma and stuck my nose in the tin and breathed deep. It was exhilirating. I bought crazy little toiletries that no one needs, but don't cost too much.

I am awake again. I have risen from a long senseless slumber and appreciate all the beauty in this world.

Spring

I love spring. I love everything about it.  I love watching the transition from a bleak, grey landscape to one that is lush and green with dots and splashes of color. I love going outside and feeling fresh air flutter across previously encased flesh. I love the liberating feeling that it brings to my very essence.

Last weekend was a productive one. We filled 10 bags of yard debris, which included a grapevine that was allowed to grow unrestrained for two years. Now it's a nub of its former self. Today, we were going to start building a walkway, but the weather does not seem to be on our side. There are intermittent showers.

Teaching My Daughter to Drive

Caroline is 15 years old and a mighty wise young woman. She is now taking driver's education at her high school and she's about two months into the whole driving thing. My gut told me that when this kid was ready to drive or more accurately it is legal for her to drive, she would be a natural. She has taken to driving like Ted Williams to batting. My goodness, I have never seen such a cool, in control 15 year old behind the wheel.

We started out slow. At the parent's meeting for driver's ed, the teacher cautioned us to take our student drivers to certain areas of our village where there would be plenty of stop signs -- four way stop signs. That's where we started. But after two practice sessions in the this area, again my intuition told me Caroline was ready to tackle more dicey roads. We headed out to one of the main arteries through town during rush hour. I admit I cringed a tad, but again I was certain she was up to this driving task. We kept on upping the driving ante, more heavily traveled roads, deeper into rush hour, night time driving...then came the Eisenhower Expressway. We live just a mile from the Chicago border so traffic can be pretty heavy. But my girl got on the Ike at the Harlem entrance and away she went -- heading west as the sun was sinking into the horizon. She drove us to Costco. We reached our destination and filled up with gas and headed home again. She handled it like she's been driving for 30 years.

I remember when this sweet young girl was placed in my waiting arms and our destiny together was sealed. The time seems so fleeting, yet so remarkable as I think back on all we've been through together. I have marveled at her growth and her new found womanhood. And as I sit next to her in the passenger seat, I am mighty proud of who my sweet girl is becoming.

Easter is done

I always like best the moment when the holiday is over and the food is away and the guest are snug in their own homes. I love planning holiday menus and having people gathered around my dining room table enjoying each other and the food we've prepared. But I think my very favorite time is sitting in my bed at the end of the long day and feeling grateful. I am grateful for my daughter and her tolerance of my need to whip every holiday into an affair to remember. I am grateful for my dear friends who join in my love of holidays.

This year's menu was particularly good. We had grilled lamb marinated in olive oil, fresh herbs, mustard and grilled on real charcoal served over a bed of mache, mint and scallions drizzled with the remaining vinaigrette. As side dishes, I roasted fennel and grated parmesan cheese over it when it came out of the oven. I also made an eggplant gratin and an orzo salad with mint and feta. It was nice and everything played well together.

My friend brought homemade cheese crackers and for dessert a rhubarb and strawberry cake with vanilla ice cream.  We were so stuffed after dinner we had to walk several blocks before we could even think about dessert and coffee.

It was a very good day.

Daytime Bras. Nighttime Bras????

I had a friend over this evening who has been widowed for a long time -- 15 years or more and she had been on the dating scene for many of those years. While I am single, I do not consider myself to be "on the dating scene" -- whatever that is. She advised me to start practicing and to acquire the correct ensembles which includes a day time bra and a night time bra. WTF!!!! I wear bras, but they are bras to hold my breast in place -- end of story. She made dating sound like a big huge penance, rather than a pleasurable experience of getting to know someone who you kind of like and would like to get to know better. I think I should set my sights on becoming a nun.

Good Friday!

What is so good about Good Friday!? Jesus was nailed to the cross after a horrific scourging and gruesome walk to the place where he was crucified. Poor Mary having to witness the hideous, inhumane fate of her first-born son might as well have been crucified herself. It probably would have been a kinder, gentler act than having to witness her son's murder. And then did Jesus really die for our sins and open up the Kingdom of God? I am not so sure about that.

I was raised a Catholic -- a Boston, Jesuit-minded Catholic -- which I think in some ways created all kinds of strife in my evolving mind. I was taught by a group of enlightened sisters who allowed us to have open debate about abortion. I remember one of my classmates equating a fetus to a piece of flesh and that it was no more a viable life than a thumb being severed. She was not reprimanded for her point of view. My class was not lectured on the evils of abortions.  We were all listened to both pro and con and had a healthy intelligent debate and then went on to Algebra class after that.

The older I become the less inclined I am to believe in the bible as fact and the life of Jesus, while I truly believe is real, is wrapped in all sort of half truths and wishes. I think Jesus was an ascended master who came here to teach. His sermon on the mount is perhaps the most revealing and important lesson of all. I think we are all "God" and when they describe Jesus as the "GodHead," which for years I have been noodling in my head, I think that is absolutely true. I think Jesus is the essence of all every human is destined to become. I do not believe that when we die it is the last time we will be on earth. I believe this planet is place for accelerated soul growth. A place where we try out different aspects of our huge selves and try to create purer more evolved souls. 

As for the whole Good Friday horror, I am not sure what that is trying to accomplish. The more I think about it the more confusing I find it. I think it's huge religious battleground that has sparked all sorts of ugly ugly fights. I do not want to minimalize the life of Jesus. Instead, I think it needs to more transformative and hopeful -- that it is indeed a story of hope and agape love. I wonder if Jesus had not been crucified if he would have made such a global impact on history.

Navel Gazing

I think blogging is navel gazing. It's a bit narcisstic really. I do it because I have no other outlet to really write in. Words make up a large component of my job, but it's not creative expression. Instead, the words are meant to engage someone into wanting what the institution I work for has to offer.

There are some blogs I follow that are at first interesting and worth dropping in on now and again. But the same thing happens to me time and again, I begin to squint my eyes and pucker my mouth as I read and think to myself "oh my goodness, isn't there anything else in your life besides you?" I can appreciate being all about me, but I've come to realize I am really no more interesting or unique then the next person. In fact, I am quite dull. I had some exciting turmoil in my life for a while, but now things have settle into a humdrum state, which I really enjoy.

I get up in the morning, wake up my daughter, feed the dog and the cat, drink coffee, read the paper, take a shower, dress, pack my daughter's lunch, drive her to school, go to work, go the gym, cook dinner, eat dinner, clean up after dinner, read or watch television, do laundry, go to bed and start the same cycle again. Fun!

My views on life are really no different than any one else's. I think the most radical thing I have come to believe in the past year is that there is no "God." There's no stately man with a booming voice sitting on a throne and -- much like Santa Claus -- deciding who's naughty or nice. That doesn't make me an atheist. Rather I believe that God is our collective consciousness and is all the good things about our spirit incarnate and in spiritus. I believe we are each a fraction of what equals God and as Jesus taught us that kingdom of heaven is really inside of us no matter who we are or what we've done.  Then what is our dark side? I'm not sure. Is it Eve being tempted by the forbidden fruit? Who knows? But that's the latest little knot I am trying to untangle. So when I gaze at my navel I'm wondering who is the devil?

It's a beautiful day

I love that U2 song. I woke up early and forced myself out of bed planning to hit the gym with my exercise buddy, Andi. But she texted me to beg off. That's fine. It bides me more time. Tonight, our block is having our annual progressive dinner and she and I have not decided what we are going to contribute. I am hosting the dinner portion which means I am on the hook for an entree. I think Chicken Divan sounds like the ticket. It's easy to assemble and I have my sister's recipe which has just a hint of curry flavor so it elevates it a notch on the sophistication scale.

Getting back to the song. The sun is shining. My sleeping beauty daughter is off to tour Illinois State today with her boyfriend and his family. So I am left on my own today! Yipee. I need to shop, clean and cook and hopefully pop into the Y for an hour. But despite a dayfull of task and I am just pleased to have it.

Morning

It's just a wee past 6 a.m. and I've already been up for a while.  My sweet crazy dog couldn't figure out how to climb the cellar stairs so she stood at the bottom whimpering peppered with an occasional howl. I laid there disbelieving that this animal couldn't get herself up the stairs like she does on almost a daily basis. We're up and down all the time -- at least with loads of laundry.

This has been a crazy week. I haven't liked work at all and I typically love my job a lot. My life with my daughter and her father has been disruptive. The two of them have a messy, messy relationship. And I'm not sure quite what to do about it. They need each other. I need him to take more responsibility for her because frankly I just need a break every once and a while. But I can only do so much to encourage and cajol. They are at their best together when I'm part of the equation to serve as the buffer. But that's a twisted dynamic and I have extracted myself from them. Caroline is old enough to handle this with him.

I am surprised that she spent three nights with him. When she called to tell me her boyfriend was picking her up to bring her home, I was disappointed. I wanted one more night alone. One more day of her spring break where I didn't need to worry about her whereabouts.

I was telling my friends this at lunch the other day. And they all jumped on me saying you need to go away without Caroline. I do. My sister, Patricia, and I need to plan our second annual vacation. But when is the question? We'll head back to Amelia Island to the same place. My friend has already offered to stay with my daughter.

Trisha and I stayed at this little hotel across from the beach. We rented chairs from a shop, a simple restaurant with a great outdoor eating area was right across from the hotel. We just had a fantastic time. We laid on the beach after dinner and looked at the stars and gave them silly names and made up crazy stories about them. It was such a release.