The grass has grown long under my fingers since I last blogged, and I wish I could say that it has been the exciting life of this forest-dweller-come-lately that has kept me from it; in truth, it's been a lot of treading water and straining my chin upwards to keep that water out of my nose that's kept me sufficiently distracted to ignore my thought-life, or at least to keep it brain-bound.
But tonight I've managed to break curfew, and I have a backload of things banging around in my head and wanting to get out somehow. This probably means that the proceeding words will be heinously rambly.
So the idea that's captured me lately is the painful dichotomy I feel between sensing a need to develop a life of simple contentment in my current circumstances ("bloom where you're planted" and all that) and the deeper, more dangerous need to embrace without reservation the profound sense of discontent that has dogged me my entire life. Siddhartha would probably say that the answer lies somewhere in between, and maybe he'd be right. But that kind of thinking is way too temperate for a heart bursting at the seams with dreaming and plotting and what-iffing about futures imagined and hoped for, and so it feels like I either need to hunker down and discover the magic in a life of quiet contentment, or damn the torpedoes and full speed ahead with it already!
What I can't figure out is this: is it a base, soulish want I have, to be happy inside a deep unhappiness, or is it a higher, more spiritual thing I'm chasing after? Is it glorious or gluttonous to chase that discontent forever and pray I never catch it?
--Teri.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
ch-ch-ch-changes
ch-ch-ch-changes…
Posted on May 25, 2011 by Teri
I’m sitting in a Starbucks in the Springs right now, surrounded by…empty chairs. And a dude immersed in a newspaper. And another dude immersed in his laptop. And another dude immersed in…wait. There are no immersed women in here! Except me.
Glorious.
Ohdang. A lady just sat down next to me, and she looks friendly. No!!
So why am I here? That might not be a question any of you would have to ask yourselves, but I have to have a pretty good justification for doing this. I’m in between appointments today, and am taking some time, at long last, just to be by myself. Christopher’s working at home today and is watching the kids for me.
I pretty much quit 75% of my life this week, and decided to make the remaining 25%, 100% for the time being. I hit a wall a couple of weeks ago and finally, finally, f i n a l l y realized that I could not keep up the frenetic pace of family and professional life that I’ve been trying to juggle, adding a new ball here and there since Asa’s birth, and usually ending up dropping most of them. The fragile ball of my family life is always the first to drop, and it has cracked in several places. It’s time for some reparative work and also to hold that sacred circle close and not let it drop or be juggled any more. The kids couldn’t be happier, though they never would have said so before, thinking I was happier with them on the back burner. Wake-up call!!
So I resigned as both Secretary and member of our local doula association; I put the word out that I will no longer be actively seeking birth photography clients, or doula clients, and I also put in a request for an indefinite hiatus from my work as a trainer through Childbirth International.
Some of those ties were very sad to have to break, though I’m confident that I can pick this up when I am better suited to it, but the effect of all this freedom has been staggering. I suddenly found my love of cooking again. I read several chapters of a book that I actually *wanted* to read. I discovered how much my baby really needs to hold me, and how much my toddler wants to have conversations with me, to debate with me, and to help me with tasks I never would have let him attempt before. I found out that Ben isn’t the only boy of mine who desperately needs a good throw-down about 3 times a day, and that Isaac’s anger management problem is probably in large part due to a lack of discipline on my part. I learned that Gabe is suddenly growing up on me and losing that small boyish face and starting to look an awful lot like a blonde-haired, blue-eyed version of his MawMaw. How handsome!! I discovered that Bonnie is patiently waiting for so much from me, and I re-learned where each of my children are excelling, and where they are struggling. I found out about their hopes and dreams for a happier family, a fun summer, and a larger family vision. This shouldn’t be new to me, but I guess I just haven’t been listening. It’s a shame.
But it’s a shame I’m rectifying now, before it’s too late and these little balls bounce away from me for good, out of the circle of our family influence. So I think it’s worth the sacrifice, and I feel so much lighter and more free, even though I just took most of my life-dreams and put them away for another time. Some of them might die while they’re on the shelf, I don’t know. But I think I’m okay with that, and I think I can finally be awake enough now to stop missing the really great moments which, it turns out, are a lot closer to home than I let myself believe.
–Teri.
Posted on May 25, 2011 by Teri
I’m sitting in a Starbucks in the Springs right now, surrounded by…empty chairs. And a dude immersed in a newspaper. And another dude immersed in his laptop. And another dude immersed in…wait. There are no immersed women in here! Except me.
Glorious.
Ohdang. A lady just sat down next to me, and she looks friendly. No!!
So why am I here? That might not be a question any of you would have to ask yourselves, but I have to have a pretty good justification for doing this. I’m in between appointments today, and am taking some time, at long last, just to be by myself. Christopher’s working at home today and is watching the kids for me.
I pretty much quit 75% of my life this week, and decided to make the remaining 25%, 100% for the time being. I hit a wall a couple of weeks ago and finally, finally, f i n a l l y realized that I could not keep up the frenetic pace of family and professional life that I’ve been trying to juggle, adding a new ball here and there since Asa’s birth, and usually ending up dropping most of them. The fragile ball of my family life is always the first to drop, and it has cracked in several places. It’s time for some reparative work and also to hold that sacred circle close and not let it drop or be juggled any more. The kids couldn’t be happier, though they never would have said so before, thinking I was happier with them on the back burner. Wake-up call!!
So I resigned as both Secretary and member of our local doula association; I put the word out that I will no longer be actively seeking birth photography clients, or doula clients, and I also put in a request for an indefinite hiatus from my work as a trainer through Childbirth International.
Some of those ties were very sad to have to break, though I’m confident that I can pick this up when I am better suited to it, but the effect of all this freedom has been staggering. I suddenly found my love of cooking again. I read several chapters of a book that I actually *wanted* to read. I discovered how much my baby really needs to hold me, and how much my toddler wants to have conversations with me, to debate with me, and to help me with tasks I never would have let him attempt before. I found out that Ben isn’t the only boy of mine who desperately needs a good throw-down about 3 times a day, and that Isaac’s anger management problem is probably in large part due to a lack of discipline on my part. I learned that Gabe is suddenly growing up on me and losing that small boyish face and starting to look an awful lot like a blonde-haired, blue-eyed version of his MawMaw. How handsome!! I discovered that Bonnie is patiently waiting for so much from me, and I re-learned where each of my children are excelling, and where they are struggling. I found out about their hopes and dreams for a happier family, a fun summer, and a larger family vision. This shouldn’t be new to me, but I guess I just haven’t been listening. It’s a shame.
But it’s a shame I’m rectifying now, before it’s too late and these little balls bounce away from me for good, out of the circle of our family influence. So I think it’s worth the sacrifice, and I feel so much lighter and more free, even though I just took most of my life-dreams and put them away for another time. Some of them might die while they’re on the shelf, I don’t know. But I think I’m okay with that, and I think I can finally be awake enough now to stop missing the really great moments which, it turns out, are a lot closer to home than I let myself believe.
–Teri.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
on comfort
Last night I curled in my skin
Around you
And felt the long miles of memory
Stretched out behind us,
The bright ribboned highway of our passionate youth.
Your breath was soft,
Dressed like the universe,
And splendored into a thousand stars,
The galaxies of your dreaming in rhythm with God.
Each fiber of flesh,
Soft in the lull of sleep,
echoed faint with the catching of our vision--
The quiet smooth miracle of belonging.
--Teri.
Around you
And felt the long miles of memory
Stretched out behind us,
The bright ribboned highway of our passionate youth.
Your breath was soft,
Dressed like the universe,
And splendored into a thousand stars,
The galaxies of your dreaming in rhythm with God.
Each fiber of flesh,
Soft in the lull of sleep,
echoed faint with the catching of our vision--
The quiet smooth miracle of belonging.
--Teri.
Monday, March 7, 2011
all i never did
September gave way to a winter far more bitter than I ever imagined it would be, tinged only by a small sweetness in knowing that a tiny autumn seed I planted may have germinated in some way.
I wrote back in September that I needed to find a way around the roadblock of my tongue, a cowardice lingering around my heart, almost impossible to overcome. I needed to tell my uncle, my childhood hero, how I loved him, and admired him, and was inspired by him. I wrote that I needed to do this, before all I couldn't tell him, became all I never did.
In this moment, I'm sitting at the deathbed of that same man, ticking off the hours as he loosens the grip on his body and prepares to cross the threshold into the Infinite. He's dying in front of me, 6 feet away from me, and all I couldn't say to him is becoming all I never did--right now, in this room.
I asked him to read my post about him when it was written, and today I'm praying that he did, that he somehow understood my love for him, and that he carries that knowledge in his heart as he readies for his departure.
Love has no expiration date, though opportunity often does.
--Teri.
I wrote back in September that I needed to find a way around the roadblock of my tongue, a cowardice lingering around my heart, almost impossible to overcome. I needed to tell my uncle, my childhood hero, how I loved him, and admired him, and was inspired by him. I wrote that I needed to do this, before all I couldn't tell him, became all I never did.
In this moment, I'm sitting at the deathbed of that same man, ticking off the hours as he loosens the grip on his body and prepares to cross the threshold into the Infinite. He's dying in front of me, 6 feet away from me, and all I couldn't say to him is becoming all I never did--right now, in this room.
I asked him to read my post about him when it was written, and today I'm praying that he did, that he somehow understood my love for him, and that he carries that knowledge in his heart as he readies for his departure.
Love has no expiration date, though opportunity often does.
--Teri.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
where have all the athiests gone?
I'm grappling with Death again, and it feels a little bit like he's winning at the moment.
I can look down at my hands and see death at work, the slow ebb of my youth leaving little lines and creases as it retreats. I can look in the mirror and see it in my eyes, a cynicism lingering there where optimism once was.
I worry about that sometimes.
So I'm putting it out to my friends, the ones who don't necessarily share my spirituality: What do you believe? And I'm having a hard time getting a response. I know I have plenty of friends and even some loved ones who are athiest, or at least agnostic, or existentialist, or Pagan, and I don't honestly know what you believe in terms of the human soul, of our permanence or transience, of what lies beyond, of what we're made of, spiritually-speaking. I know what I believe--the eternal nature of the soul, the permanent utopia where great ideas never go awry, the spark of the divine that lies within each of us.
Now what about the rest of you? I'm not asking for a debate, and I'm past the place in my life when I thought I knew it all. I don't want to change your mind or save your soul; I just want to know what you think.
--Teri.
I can look down at my hands and see death at work, the slow ebb of my youth leaving little lines and creases as it retreats. I can look in the mirror and see it in my eyes, a cynicism lingering there where optimism once was.
I worry about that sometimes.
So I'm putting it out to my friends, the ones who don't necessarily share my spirituality: What do you believe? And I'm having a hard time getting a response. I know I have plenty of friends and even some loved ones who are athiest, or at least agnostic, or existentialist, or Pagan, and I don't honestly know what you believe in terms of the human soul, of our permanence or transience, of what lies beyond, of what we're made of, spiritually-speaking. I know what I believe--the eternal nature of the soul, the permanent utopia where great ideas never go awry, the spark of the divine that lies within each of us.
Now what about the rest of you? I'm not asking for a debate, and I'm past the place in my life when I thought I knew it all. I don't want to change your mind or save your soul; I just want to know what you think.
--Teri.
Friday, January 14, 2011
good night
I'm not filled with an abundance of flowery words or lofty ideas tonight; instead, I'm propped up in bed, having just updated my blog identity and given myself a bit of a cyber-facelift here, and I'm feeling rather comfortable. There's just a little chill in the bedroom air tonight, but under the deep brown comforter, my toes are warm against the peacefully resting legs of my husband, whose softish breathing is threatening to lull me into the realm of the sandman right along with him.
It's a good sort of night; the house has fallen silent, and the only movement lies in my fingertips and in the dreamings of my peaceful children down the hallway, tucked in their beds with their dearly loved blankets wrapped around each of them as though they were fine china plates wrapped carefully in their packing boxes.
I think I'll pack myself in for the night, as well, and wait for the movement of dreaming to carry me off, where maybe I'll find some flowery words hiding and waiting to get to my fingertips.
--Teri.
It's a good sort of night; the house has fallen silent, and the only movement lies in my fingertips and in the dreamings of my peaceful children down the hallway, tucked in their beds with their dearly loved blankets wrapped around each of them as though they were fine china plates wrapped carefully in their packing boxes.
I think I'll pack myself in for the night, as well, and wait for the movement of dreaming to carry me off, where maybe I'll find some flowery words hiding and waiting to get to my fingertips.
--Teri.
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