the bottom of the ninth

Practicing gratitude

2012-01-08T13:08:05-08:00

"Most people experience gratitude in their lives, either around gifts, friends, kind acts, or sometimes just a good meal, but how much time do you spend, each day, being grateful for these things? Do you make it a practice? If not, a very simple suggestion; each night write down 3 things that happened that day that you are grateful for. It might be someone you met that day, a simple conversation, a hug, or a polite act on the part of another. It may even be that you are grateful that you had the chance to do something for someone else. Practicing gratitude at this simple level trains your mind to find gratitude in the simple things. Once your attention is on things to be grateful for, you automatically stop looking for things to be pissed off about. Over time, this becomes a way of being, not a practice." - Lee Lipsenthal, MD. On Thursday afternoon,as I found myself in a gallery filled with paintings by the Venetian Masters, my throat began to tighten. I was standing in front of a painting by the venetian painter Tintoretto, Susanna and the Elders and thinking about my Mom. I was 12 years...

My mama's stuffing

2011-11-25T15:45:57-08:00

My mother put raisins in everything. Oatmeal. Stuffed artichokes. Swiss Chard. And stuffing. On Thanksgiving day, I was scraping the sauteed onions, celery, walnuts and bacon into the bowl filled with toasted bread cubes. "What's missing?" I said aloud as my red haired Aussie stared inquisitively at me, waiting for something to fall on the floor. Raisins. Side dishes come and go. Creamed onions, stuffed mushrooms, twice baked potatoes and candied yams. We've even had tabouli and dolmas when my part Lebanese cousin and his family join us. But there are two traditions that have remained the same through the years, the stuffing and the way I cook the turkey. Mama was a good cook. A really good cook. She rarely used recipes and when she did she was known to modify at will, making use of what Dad had growing in the garden. She had her specialties, things she became known for, but what I loved the best were the dishes she learned to make from her mama, dishes that were steeped in our Italian tradition. Dishes, I knew, she grew up eating as well. My mother has dementia. As her memory continues to fade, she no longer recognizes...

What I am thankful for

2011-11-23T20:15:51-08:00

"If the only prayer you ever say is 'Thank you,' that is enough." - Meister Eckhart I haven't been here in a while. Each semester I feel like Alice, falling headfirst into the rabbit hole and toppling, toppling, spinning and swirling in an endless abyss. Days and weeks and months of swirling. Each week looks the same. A hamster on a wheel. Run. Run. Run. Squeak. Squeak. Squeak. Harder. Faster. Must. Keep. Going. I am thankful to be running. And while I was running, the air has gotten cooler. The trees are bare, leaves cascading from the branches and painting the lawn in swathes of red and gold and magnificent orange. The darkness comes too quickly and I flip the pages on the calendar. Quickly. Too Quickly. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. There will be an empty seat at our table but across the miles, an extra one elsewhere, as college kid shares dinner with a roommate and his family. I am grateful for generosity. The phone rang this morning. It was college kid. We talked for a long time. "Life is good", he said and he told me the reasons why. It wasn't always like that. A year ago, when we...

The last first day

2011-08-18T12:20:46-07:00

He was up and ready to go before it even registered in my sleepy brain. Grabbing his backpack, he headed out the door. "Bye Mom." Yikes. "Wait! Stop!" I yelled and I fumbled for my camera. I was never very good at that. Some parents are far better at it than I, those glossy reminders of first days; from kindergarten on up. There's Amy in her yellow dress or Joey wearing the t-shirt that Nana gave him. Kyle with his Batman lunch box and Erin hesitantly trying to size up Mrs. Richards. No. Not me. There's a blurry kindergarten photo somewhere, his face obscured by a precocious female classmate as she waved confidently to her mother. It was hard to focus amidst the tears (mine and his) as I gently tried to pry his little hands from my legs. Despite both our our desire to hang on a little longer, requests for home-schooling and Peter Pan promises, he grew up anyway and here he was, marching off to begin his final year of this 12 year journey. When his brother began his final march just a couple of years ago, I promised myself I would savor it all, taking the...

Endings and Beginnings

2011-07-21T20:23:06-07:00

For Kerby Ann "It does not require many words to speak the truth." — Chief Joseph The journey from there to here goes by in an instant. On my desk, I keep a collection of trinkets. Talismans of my professional journey. They have been given to me over the years by the people I have worked with. The people who have taught me, who have watched me grow into the person that I am today. There are beautiful shells and crystals. A Hopi storyteller. A penguin, a small elephant and a painted rock. They remind me of my journey, of the people I have met along the way and of the gifts that they have shared with me. The other day my boss, whom I have known for over 25 years, came into my office and gave me a white buffalo. She is retiring today, after a long and rich career as a social worker, a champion of the poor and disenfranchised. A strong voice for those who have none in the darkness of this often unjust world. Twenty five years ago, when I was a young graduate student, I could not have known the journey I was about to...

Early morning meltown

2011-06-30T21:35:55-07:00

I'm not entirely sure why I chose 4:00 a.m. to have a mid life crisis, but sure enough, there I was, wide awake and in a complete panic about getting older and running out of time to do all the things I want to do... before it's too late. Reviewing my bucket list. I should have seen it coming. The night before we celebrated my "baby's" 10th anniversary of his 7th birthday. Cake, candles, a bag full of all the goodies a boy could want and a big plate of fettuccine alfredo his way, with chunks of roast chicken and crispy pancetta. He towers over me now. I'm not sure how (or when) that happened, but I noticed again as he bent down to hug me when we got up from dinner. "Thanks Mom," he said, and he tried to give me one of those 'teenage' hugs I've grown accustomed to. Nope. Not this time buddy. I squeezed him tight. A real hug. There aren't too many of them left, I fear. My boss is about to retire. The other day she walked into my office and handed me an evaluation she did of me 25 years ago, when I...

Stand for something

2011-06-07T21:22:00-07:00

I am participating in #Trust30, an online initiative and 30-day writing challenge that encourages you to look within and trust yourself. Prompt #3: One Strong Belief by Buster Benson It is easy in the world to live after the world’s opinion; it is easy in solitude to live after our own; but the great man is he who in the midst of the crowd keeps with perfect sweetness the independence of solitude. - Ralph Waldo Emerson, Self-Reliance The world is powered by passionate people, powerful ideas, and fearless action. What’s one strong belief you possess that isn’t shared by your closest friends or family? What inspires this belief, and what have you done to actively live it? (Author: Buster Benson) _____________________________________________________________________________________ He looked like someone's grandfather. A counter-culture, hippy-ish grandfather, but a grandfather none the less. Ricardo Navarro was standing in the center of the small, thatched roof, quanset hut speaking about his beloved El Salvador, passion pouring out with his every word. The beautiful environmental center that served as our in-country home, tucked deep amidst the bananas and papayas in the El Salvadoran jungle, was his baby, his gift, in a way to the people of this country he...

Just one

2011-06-01T22:25:20-07:00

I am participating in #Trust30, an online initiative and 30-day writing challenge that encourages you to look within and trust yourself. Prompt #2: Your genuine action will explain itself, and will explain your other genuine actions. Your conformity explains nothing. The force of character is cumulative. – Ralph Waldo Emerson, Self-Reliance If ‘the voyage of the best ship is a zigzag line of a hundred tacks,’ then it is more genuine to be present today than to recount yesterdays. How would you describe today using only one sentence? Tell today’s sentence to one other person. Repeat each day. (Author: Liz Danzico) ________________________________________________________________ I have been working on being present. Somedays it's easy. Someday's, not so much. Moments rush by; a minute, then ten. Hours spent not really noticing. The smell of the rain. The taste of mango. The sound a dog makes when he's sleeping in the sun. The imperfect smile on the face of a child I do not know. Tears bubbling up, just below the surface. These are the minutes that make up my day; pictures flashing on the digital photo frame, pieces that create the puzzle that I am building on the dining room table of life,...

15 minutes to live

2011-05-31T23:01:58-07:00

I am participating in #Trust30, an online initiative and 30-day writing challenge that encourages you to look within and trust yourself. Prompt #1: We are afraid of truth, afraid of fortune, afraid of death, and afraid of each other. Our age yields no great and perfect persons. – Ralph Waldo Emerson You just discovered you have fifteen minutes to live. 1. Set a timer for fifteen minutes. 2. Write the story that has to be written. (Author: Gwen Bell) ________________________________ My heart is beating in my throat. I am frantic. Frantic. What should I do? What can I do? Moments race by before I realize that there is no time... to waste. Not a minute to waste. There are stories to tell. Pieces of me that I want to leave behind. Somehow in these final moments I become aware of the need to leave something behind, to mark my presence in some way, to say I was here for fear that I will be forgotten. Need I be? It seems such a ridiculous worry and yet, I wonder if my life has been enough. Did I do what I set out to do? What I wanted to do? Did I......

Faces

2011-05-17T08:23:15-07:00

"THE CHURCH IS OBLIGED by its evangelical mission to demand structural changes that favor the reign of God and a more just and comradely way of life. Unjust social structures are the roots of all violence and disturbances. How hard and conflicting are the results of evangelical duty! Those who benefit from obsolete structures react selfishly to any kind of change"—(Archbishop Oscar Romero, Nov. 1979). She was waiting at the doorway each morning, her innocent brown eyes peaking out at this group of strangers who had come from far away. She caught my attention the first day and I fumbled for my camera to capture her beautiful face, but before I could manage a picture, she had slipped inside the rustic house on the ridge and she was gone. I find myself thinking of the faces of the children. Beautiful brown faces, full of optimism and hope, eager to learn and happy to play. Faces filled with sadness too, and fear. Faces that tell the tales of the lessons of a lifetime, of a revolution that rocked this country and stole the lives of many of its people. Life is not easy in El Salvador. In the evening, after the...