Changing my environment

I am sitting in a hotel in Nashville.  The sun seems to be coming up.  I can tell because the grey cloud cover is sort of glowing. 

Bob the husband is at a tax conference downstairs.  I am grateful that I no longer go to tax conferences. 

I have told everyone that I am here to write, but really, I'm here to be quiet. I'm here to spend time with Bob and by myself. I'm here to give my ears a rest.

And when my ears stop ringing from the needs and wants and sadness and happiness of others, I hope to hear what I can do … really do, not just want to do … to BE for other people.

I made my peace globe, which will be unveiled on Monday, November 4.  I'll give you a hint:

OK, that's more than a hint.

I love Teresa Avila.  Our Godly Play story said that she laughed for God.  "May God protect me from gloomy saints." She also said, "The closer we get to God, the simpler it becomes."  And like a lot of people my age and not my age, I am looking for simplicity.

Love.  Light. Dark. Rain. Sunshine. Anything that blooms. Anything that sings. Big hugs.

I want to be a center of peace in my people's ravaged lives.  Joy, solace. Love. A hand up. A pat on a back. Love.

The Vision Thing

I'm thinking I need a vision thing.  What do I want my environment to look like?

I don't mind the people and the animals, really.  I just want less stuff.  I want to be able to cook and write and sit and talk and be.

I want a kitchen table big enough to feed everyone and strong enough to hold the crafts and homework and long talks that will go there.

I want my windows as clear as possible, so the sun can shine in.

I want light (not necessarily white) walls and wood floors.

I want comfortable furniture.

I want pictures and paintings and sculptures that mean things to us.  Not too much.  Enough.

I want color.

I want the house to smell of fresh air and coffee and lemon verbena.

I want my yard to be a great living space.  I want a table and chairs.  Maybe an arbor.  Plants to eat and anything that blooms.

I want the yard to have native plants that attract bees and butterflies.

I want a hammock chair.

My Climate Change

When one has been away from one's blog for two years, one is expected to give an explanation.

Wow.  Time flies.

Yes, I don't want to talk about the last two years. I'll say that right now, I find myself in a place I didn't make for myself (completely) and wouldn't choose for myself.

Oh wait, let me start again.  I am grateful for what I have today.  I have a husband I love dearly and usually like a whole lot.  I have three sons and three grandsons, whom I love endlessly and mercilessly.  I have enough stuff to keep all of us and a few others comfortable.  I have a new church family that is warm, kind, and curious, and perfectly willing to let us in without asking us why we need to be there.  I have old friends and the best close and extended family I could want.

What I'm looking to change, though, is my climate and my environment.  Personally and in my home.  A home that currently houses five or six adults and three or four children, as well as seven cats and two dogs.  And it's a mess.  It's full of things that we don't want or need.

In the past twelve years, we have collected our own junk AND other people's junk.  Moving and need a place to leave your furniture "for a little while?" Come on over.  We have two full rooms (I mean FULL) of mostly other people's crap mixed in with our own crap.

And so, step one of my personal quest to improve my environment is to clear out the crap.

Have I mentioned we are on the Hoarder's Scale?  No dead bodies, I don't think... maybe some lost animals.  Yarn.  Beads.  Furniture you wouldn't sit on. Clothes I don't remember owning. Folger's coffee containers that would be really cute if painted and labeled to hold stuff.  Toys.  Books that have molded. Did I mention the yarn? And about twenty of any kitchen gadget, since we can't find it and have to go out and buy one.  I'm thinking we could be wealthy if we quit replacing stuff we already have.

So let's see how we do this week...

BlogBlast For Peace 2017

My Facebook Feed has been bitter and angry lately.  I don't want it to be all cute kitties and recipes (although I have nothing against those things.)  I am just tired of facing the truth.

OK, that's a statement of privilege if I've ever made one.  And so, let me clarify.  

I am not taking a break from truth.  

The truth of people who think people of color are complaining about institutional racism and violence in order to ruin a good Sunday afternoon.  The truth of people who think women should learn to take a joke and a quick poke in the privates so as to not ruin a good man's life. The truth of people who fear and hate those who are different from them that they want to stop their existence.  The truth of people whose faith is based on personal supremacy and suppression of thought.  

Even I can't take a break from that.  

I know those things.  Sometimes I need to look at it again so that I don't forget.  I also need to see what lies people believe in good faith.  You know what I mean.  I need to hear their fears and presumptions in order to reach across the chasm.  I need to explore my own fears and presumptions in order to build a bridge.

My Diocesan Bishop, Andrew Waldo, is said to ask us to make "Charitable Assumptions."  This means that when someone says something that sounds snarky, I should listen with a whole heart before snapping back.  And then, instead of snapping back when it turns out they are being snarky, I should listen to the fear and brokenness behind it.  AND THEN, (even if they are a jackass and deserve one of my best sarcastic ZINGERS), I ought to respond with love, not necessarily passivity, and NOT jack up the argument.  Jesus wasn't a wimp, remember, but he didn't give way to hurtful slaps.  (Ok, he appears to roll his eyes at some of the questions he's asked, and it's been said that his response to the rich man who wanted to be his follower might have had a sarcastic edge to it, but you know what I mean.)

Shoulds and oughts shouldn't and oughtn't be taken on lightly.  And I haven't taken these on lightly.  Frankly, I suck at this and am making such baby steps that it does seem that I'm going backwards some days.  That's where I am right now.  Every once in a while, I am an instrument of peace.  

Please join me.