Life & Spirit | mulberryshoots

December 6, 2011

back to basics. . .

It’s amazing how having a meltdown this early in December clears away stuff. For example, all of the “have-tos” that I drag around with me for the holidays: the magical, quintessentially decorated Christmas tree that has to be a balsam and freshly cut so that it fills the room with its fragrance. This is no mean feat because trees are cut and shipped down here from Canada weeks before Thanksgiving even–and finding a balsam tree that is still alive enough to grace us with its fragrance is not an easy thing.

Then, there is the multitude of ornaments that I have collected and culled after forty-some years of Christmas tree-decorating. Antique mercury and glass ornaments, tissue paper animals, birds cut out of paper, bead garlands, glistening snowflakes from Germany when I travelled there on business years ago. A choice of different angels for the top. Or a felted red cardinal. Maybe these can be reduced to a half or a quarter.

Then, there’s the present-giving. I have been criticized for years by one person for giving too much at Christmas: “Just sit back and let her do it,” was the admonition, if memory serves me. As though receiving things that I have gathered is a burden for people. So, that’s something to reconsider, don’t you think?

Then, there’s the food. It turns out that I have not really bought into the idea that everyone should have a say-so in what the menu is going to be over the holidays. To me, it’s not a “team decision,” since it’s not really a “team effort,” is it to shop for it, prepare it and serve it? This yearning to create a true Christmas meal has been further enhanced by my correspondence with an old friend who lives in London. She has ordered two pheasants for their Christmas dinner. And I have been sending her recipes from Roald Dahl’s wonderful book, “Memories from Gipsy House,” like “Oeufs en gelee” and reading recipes for partridges stuffed with juniper, herbs and fresh bread. It’s a sharp contrast to the current ethos of “just making something quick and simple,” isn’t it? I’m a pretty good cook and part of the fun of Christmas is making really wonderful food for our meals.

Nor, for that matter, have I ever bought into the concept of exchanging “lists” of things that people want. If someone wants something on their list, then why don’t they just buy it for themselves anyway? What is Christmas anyhow, if you just order something at LL Bean or Amazon.com that somebody else wanted but didn’t want to spend the money? Then you wrap up the gift that somebody already asked for and they open it on Christmas day? Yippee? What happened to the days of Guy de Maupassant and the thoughtfulness that’s described in his short story, “The Gift”? although you wouldn’t want to be ships passing in the night either about gift-giving.

So that’s about it:
a real tree
real presents
real food

Oh, and being present. That’s a big one. Not wandering off willy nilly. Really helping out to clean things up and to wash the dishes rather than making a stab at it and letting others do all the tidying up. Not just going through the motions. Being joyful and thankful together.

Being present. That’s better than giving or receiving presents, don’t you think?

Well, thanks for listening to me today.

I’ll figure it out. Because I always do.

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December 5, 2011

how the cookie crumbles . . .

You know what they say, the only constant in life is change? Sometimes, I feel that change is long overdue, don’t you?

I find myself holding onto traditions when others take them for granted or it isn’t as meaningful for them as for me. Take being together on Christmas Day, for instance. Or the choice of food. Don’t get me going on that. People nowadays are so fussy about what they will eat or won’t eat. It’s not like hostessing a meal anymore. The pendulum has swung so far that there now seems to be endless discussion on what to cook and what to eat. When I’m the one who will do the heavy lifting to satisfy everyone’s whims and wants: doing the shopping, paying for the food, cooking and serving it, and what happens–people pick and choose what they want to eat and, whether to be late or to leave early. There is a new entitlement these days about being a guest. No longer is it the case that you invite people and present a shimmering Christmas tree and a groaning board of delectable food.

I don’t even mind that picky part about the entertaining when one is hosting the venue, setting the stage with holiday decorations, spending weeks setting it up and then having people come and adjust things just so after you have spent so much time already on making things just so.

What I do mind, after setting the stage, financing, shopping for and providing for the food, drink and all the largess (dollars and presents galore) is when I am treated like the backdrop. When people make decisions about when they’re going to be here or not. When choices are made in tandem with people who have treated me so badly in the past. And nobody gets that or even notices. So, with that, the whole thing turns to dust.

But wait, it’s not so bad when I have had time to process it all. To think to myself how weary I have been feeling even thinking about putting the whole show on the road (literally!) again. It’s time to let it go. The show doesn’t have to go on anymore. Because my integrity is more important than even Christmas, believe it or not.

That’s how the cookie crumbles. And. . . happiness is a choice, right?

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November 28, 2011

a handful of things that I love. . .

As some of you may know, I began antiquing in the ’70s when we first moved up to New England and lived in a Victorian house in Lexington. I met a dealer who specialized in early (17th and early 18th century) furniture and Caucasian oriental rugs. Beverly lived down the road from me on Marrett Road and kindly guided me through the vagaries of the antiques business and early furniture construction. By chance, she and I had the same surname at the time. She left her husband and daughters to be with the love of her life and they had a brief time together with a very sad ending.

From that time forward, the handful of things I loved and collected included early tables, redware, baskets and hand-turned wooden bowls. Through the years, I bought and sold, mostly sold, collections of things that I thought I would never part with, but then found that I needed to when moving from place to place, both in terms of living spaces and as my life unfolded. Over the past forty years, I had pared down to very few things–not exactly a handful, but just about. I had bought and sold early gate-leg tables, a style that was in its prime in the early 18th century, hand-turned vase and ring balusters, painted dark red or black, the gates folding out to support the table leaves. In my zeal to clean things out with each wave of life that I entered, the gate-leg tables came and went. One was small and curly maple that later appeared in “Early American” magazine. One was cherry that was sold to me as maple. And so, life moved on.

Yesterday, I was at an antique show in Marlborough, MA. A dealer there from whom I had bought a few choice things in the past was there with a table that I had looked at more than ayear ago at a show he was set up at in Concord, MA. This time, I asked him how much it was. He looked at me and gave me a very good price. I took it home, a yearning I didn’t think was there anymore was replete–like a puzzle piece clicking into place. I’m going to keep this one.

In the photo above, the rocking chair beside it is as early as the table base (about 1720) and was the first serious piece of furniture that I discovered from a picker in the ’70s. It got lost in the shuffle of the divorce from my ex-husband and he took it to Arizona where he settled with his new wife, 20 years ago. Due to a suggestion my daughter made on my behalf to him, the chair made its way back to me a couple of years ago. That’s how sentimental I was about it, I guess. And I’m lucky that he understood.

The photo below is one of the huge wooden bowls that I have collected over the years. The one on the left in black paint was the first thing I ever bought at Skinner’s, our local auction house. I paid $15 for it and remembered I thought it was the biggest bowl I had ever seen at the time. The one in the middle, in pale green-grey paint, graces our kitchen with its majesty.

Note: If you click on the photos, you’ll be able to see things up close! The piece of redware with the ruffled edge and splotches came from the same dealer as the little early gateleg table in the photo above.

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November 27, 2011

proving yourself (part 2). . .

I’ve been writing a couple of heavyweight posts lately. But today I had a good laugh and wanted to share it on the blog.
Here it is:

Up to the time my mother died at the age of 89, she was fond of relating an apocryphal story about herself, one that she was very proud of. In China, during college, she was a track star for her school, Ginling College. Her specialty was running the hurdles–you know, the racetrack is filled with wooden barriers about three feet high, set a few feet apart from each other so the racer took only a few strides (and in stride) before having to jump another hurdle quickly after clearing the last one.

So the story she told was that she ran the hurdles and won– when she was seven months pregnant with me!

Maybe that’s what’s wrong with me! LOL!

Honestly, I think she told this story in my presence at least once a year up to and including the year she died!

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November 27, 2011

proving yourself . . .

Well, I’ve been thinking more about the holidays after listening to Deepak Chopra’s wonderful set of affirmations aloud on my laptop yesterday. Somehow, his voice and words convey a path to understanding myself more deeply. More importantly, a better understanding of my relationship with others.

This morning, I woke up thinking about how proving ourselves impacts the attitude or the intention of what we set out to do. For example, I have been feeling more put-upon and tired preparing for Thanksgiving this year, saying to myself, it’s because of my age and/or all the other myriad of projects that I don’t have room for to do during these weeks of preparation.

But then, I thought, “nope that’s not it.” I think it’s because there was, and has been (notice I’m using past tense verbs here) the notion in the back of my mind that I had to prove myself once again: that the roast chestnut dressing had to be wonderful, so labor intensive and frustrating when a good chestnut was hard to find–or that the bird had to be aromatic, juicy and tasty (even though the oven overheated to scorch the baked potatoes and then underheated while trying to roast the turkey;) that the brussel sprouts couldn’t be watery but crisped in a little butter before adding the bacon pieces. You get the picture.

OF COURSE IT’S EXHAUSTING when one’s perfectionist leanings that fuel me to prove myself kick in. And, in the process, makes me feel resentful (who’s doing this to me anyhow?) and the whole labor is not one wholly of love, but of obligation. Wow, that’s disheartening to realize, isn’t it? BUT, it’s actually very liberating because I realize that what’s really going to happen at the NEXT holiday–which is Christmas(!) and just around the corner, dear friends, is that I’m not going to be wearing that wet blanket around my shoulders again.

In reflection about myself and how one wears oneself out trying to show your love for your family at the same time that you also want them to just really enjoy it, there’s this aspect of “proving oneself.” And that added ingredient just doesn’t help. I was also thinking about this concept when a new friend asked me almost rhetorically, why she was pushing herself to make more pots when she had been sick and fell behind, and the weather had delayed the firing of her kiln of wares for the holidays. It doesn’t have to do with our age inhibiting us, I don’t think. It has to do with either that we are still proving ourselves to ourselves and to others. Or we are doing it out of the joy of doing something for its own sake and because we care about others. In her case, I think it’s the latter.

Are the distinctions I am making too fine to understand? I don’t think so. At least for me, the proving of myself, even at my age with my grown daughters–has to do in the end, with proving one’s self-worth. Or, to put it another way, a way to justify one’s very existence. What that means is that we feel if we don’t prove ourselves and make everybody happy in the process, then, well, we’re just not worthwhile. Is this a women’s thing? Unfortunately, I have a feeling that it is.

So where are we? I don’t know about you, but I’m letting go of a LOT of old habits and baggage because I realize it’s not helping me or anyone around me. In fact, I know it’s long overdue. I have to say that this release is huge, and due largely to listening to Deepak’s deep and gentle voice by myself yesterday in the cottage (and in the car on my way back home.) The affirmations have helped me to understand things like intention, and compassion and that e-g-o- means “edging God out” and that judgment (“judge not today”) blocks out creativity. The net effect on me has been that the affirmations have released me from comparing myself to others and to be clear that I, (and you, all of us, everyone of us,) am worthwhile, just because.

If you want to see a little more for yourself, take a look at Soul Healing Affirmations (March 25, 2008) on I-Tunes. It is a very simple and profound set of affirmations that go alphabetically from A-Z. Each one lasts less than 2 minutes or no more than about 4 minutes.

I feel a lot better. And I hope you will too when thinking about whether proving yourself is really worth it when you don’t have to in the first place, and maybe, not anymore.

Cheers!

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November 26, 2011

“judge not today”. . .

On the day after Thanksgiving, my daughter and I were browsing in a Christmas Made-By-Hand gift shop in the small town next to the cottage. One after another visitor greeted the two women at the table who were minding the store. When asked how their Thanksgiving was, there ensued various comments about the Thanksgiving that they had, their family, and the food as their conversation drifted about in the store. Not many were positive. Not overall.

Later, I wondered about where unhappiness or dissatisfaction comes from. Especially when it happens to ourselves. So today, I was browsing on I-Tunes for some cleansing music and looked in the meditation section. Lo and behold, there was Deepak Chopra, leading meditations and speaking in his musical, soulful way, giving advice for the spirit. One meditation in particular struck me and I listened to that segment a few times before purchasing it for $1.29 (isn’t I-Tunes great?) Then, I found the text on-line, provided by another grateful listener. I share it here with you today.

Deepak Chopra: “Judge Not Today”:

“Judgment creates turbulence in our mind. When there is turbulence in our mind, then it interferes with the creativity of our soul. Creativity and judgment don’t go together. Judgment also means that letting go of the need to classify things, to call them either right or wrong, to label, to define, to describe, to evaluate, to analyze.

Let go, today. Judge not today. Today I will practice non-judgment.

This affirmation is about releasing the need to be judgmental. Just make this your lesson today. Consider what happens when you judge someone – it makes another person wrong. Someone else is wrong to feel a certain way, to look a certain way, to hold certain opinions. Judgment immediately creates separation. Any person who is wrong then becomes ‘them’. The need to judge arises from the need to be isolated – this is the ego’s form of defense. But at the same time you are pulling away from your true self. The same walls that keep other people away also shut off the flow of Spirit.
When you learn not to judge, you are basically saying, “I am willing to let anything in without deciding first whether it is good or bad.”

In the practice of openness, you will be inviting your soul to be intimate with you. So put your attention in your heart right now, and just repeat to yourself:

Today, I will judge nothing that occurs.
Today, I will judge nothing that occurs.
Today, I will judge nothing that occurs.
And by letting go of my judgments today, I will experience silence in my mind.
By shedding the burden of judgment today, I will experience silence in my mind.
And in this silence, I will find the ecstatic impulse, which is also the evolutionary impulse of the universe.
And I will align myself with the ecstatic evolutionary impulse of the universe, by letting go of all my judgments.
Today, I will not classify
I will not label
I will not define
I will not describe
I will not evaluate
I will not analyze.
Today, I will shed the burden of judgment.”

I thought it was pretty wise and maybe today, I can follow his suggestions. We can all be defensive about whether we are judgmental or not. Actually though, I don’t think I know anyone who isn’t judgmental because it’s hard to distinguish when we’re thinking about something to then realize we are being judgmental just by HOW we are thinking about it.

Anyway, it’s worth a try, don’t you think?

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November 23, 2011

being thankful. . .

Okay, so I’ve been griping some lately. It feels good to get it off my chest and out of my brain actually. As I was driving up here today with a car laden with fresh turkey, roasted chestnuts and the other groceries–celery, onion, Pepperidge Farm herb stuffing, homemade turkey stock plus food for an early lunch tomorrow when Caitlin and Tom arrive, I was thinking about life and how much the quality of our day depends solely upon how we react and process things that happen around us. I do think it is a choice. But sometimes we are feeling too pressured or preoccupied with our own agendas to notice that.

On the way here, I stopped at Verrill Farm, a local farmers market and food emporium where it turns out you can buy everything freshly homemade there and cart it home with your organic turkey to put in the oven. There were big pie plate containers of homemade stuffing; greenbeans and mushrooms, butternut squash puree. A woman behind me in the checkout line had a cart overflowing with the makings of a feast. When I asked her what was in one of the containers, she replied rather apologetically, “homemade stuffing and much better than I could make it myself at home.” I thanked her for letting me go ahead of her–I just had a cup of coffee. No one was judging her for not making her own stuffing, least of all me. So much largesse and yet, there’s still room for self-criticism.

When I arrived at the cottage, the ocean surf was coming in so strong that it reminded me of the hurricane we had just a little while back. After the groceries were carried in and unpacked, I hooked up my laptop and looked around me. There is so much to be grateful for: Thanksgiving with our family for one. Travelling safely in traffic and getting to one’s destination without mishap. The time to write a post about gratitude.

I am thankful. And I am humbled by how much there is to be thankful for rather than grousing about every little thing that comes my way. So, here’s to thanking the Helpers, the Sage, the forces in the Universe and God for everything that we live among, the good, the bad and the not so beautiful.

After all, it is the only world we live in. And for that, we can remember to be thankful.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

November 22, 2011

and what if there is?. . .

In the previous post, “what if there’s no empty?” I wrote about the possibility of looking at our internal reserves as “limitless.” Then, today, I ran into feeling like those reserves were indeed limited. Here’s what the I-Ching says about Limitation from Hexagram 60, (Wilhelm edition.)

…”But in limitation we must observe due measure. If a (wo)man should seek to impose galling limitations upon her own nature, it would be injurious. And if (s)he should go too far in imposing limitations on others, they would rebel. Therefore, it is necessary to set limits even upon limitations.”

So there.

It is two days before Thanksgiving. The funny roughness in the way the car has been running for the last few months is finally going to be addressed by a tune-up this afternoon. Maybe just in time but not the best time to be without a car. I’ve got most of the groceries bought and ready to go, only a list of a few other items that will only grow by the time I get to the store. Vacuuming and making guest beds is next.

Meanwhile, NANOWRIMO has bitten the dust, at least for now. I’m only up to about 35,000 words which doesn’t really matter, because I’m drawing a blank for what happens next to the characters. I don’t even think they know what will happen, to tell you the truth. Not really worried though, because there’s just too much swirling around me to even think about writing just now.

Mostly other people’s stuff, sad to say. It can’t be helped sometimes when you’re loaded up with other people’s stuff. This is a common experience for all women, I think, and especially if you are a mother–and even more because of the holidays! So, I’ve hit the wall and my reserves have creaked to a halt. . . because there’s no space for me left. That’s when I know I have to come up for air. My own air.

So, limitation is kicking in today. Setting limits for myself so that I don’t let myself feel pushed out of the picture of my life altogether. I’m not really complaining about it, just acknowledging a necessary correction, slightly overdue. Here I thought I had myself in hand. When it wasn’t really as much in my grasp as I had hoped.

So, maybe it can cut both ways: that in certain instances, you can indeed be limitless in your patience and commitment. And in others, with different circumstances piling up around you, you find yourself too swamped to get enough air. Today is one of those days.

But I’m going to take care of that tout suite! That means “right away” in French!

November 20, 2011

what if there’s no “empty”?. . .

We live in a finite world, right? When our car runs out of gas, the tank is empty and we find a filling station and add gas. When we finish a bottle of water, it’s empty and we stop drinking. Or get another one. We empty wastebaskets. So we are constantly in this full or empty mode in our daily lives. That’s a bilateral way of thinking about the world around us.

But tonight, I was thinking about reservoirs. Internal ones. How deep can we go to draw upon additional resources of patience, for example. How much understanding can we have about something before we reach limits? I’m starting to think that we don’t have an empty setting. We’re not cars, after all. What if our reserves for demonstrating our commitment to someone are, well, limitless. They don’t have to do just one more thing before we throw in the towel or yell at them. Where did the concept of personal limits derive from anyhow?

It’s different also from having reached a certain point in a relationship when change is overdue (like the one I was describing in the post, “free at last.”) That one had been dangling for a really long time. I didn’t reach a certain limit so much as I decided to bring things up in conversation–to talk about it so as to improve things, perhaps. Met by recriminations that shut everything down, it was time to go. I did not leave because I had reached my limit–I would have had plenty more except that there was no mutuality going on. So, maybe having limits, or reaching limits is really a choice rather than just sitting there, thinking we are on empty. Just like choosing happiness, we can choose to be. . .limitless.

Right away, when I considered this way of thinking about myself, I felt myself relax. I didn’t have to act as though I was reaching my wit’s end. Or getting tired of some same old thing. I could choose NOT to do that. And keep on going.

Wow. So, how’s that for energy changing itself in one’s being?

November 18, 2011

free at last . . .

Yesterday was a good day! My shiatsu practitioner had worked on me the day before to move my energy up from where it was stuck. Wow! I felt the impact of it right away. And so did those around me! I found myself expressing what I truly felt. About being ignored or taken for granted. Then, standing up for myself with someone who had a habit of making digs at me. Or turning things back on me like teflon when I tried to communicate or break through defenses that were old and hardened. It wasn’t pleasant. But, like one’s body cleansing itself, I felt lighter afterwards. Cleaner. Leaving the past behind and not dragging it along any more just for sentimental reasons.

Today, I’m done processing it all. The energy is regrouping. I can feel it. Today, I know what’s fundamentally important to me. Not distracted by the holidays. Nor running around so much. More grounded. My next shiatsu appointment is scheduled for the week after Thanksgiving. I give thanks today and every day for my life. And can’t wait to see where this new energy will take me from here.

Postscript: I did an I-Ching reading on this situation today and here is the text:
Hexagram 58: The Joyous, Line 1
Contented Joyousness. Good fortune.

“A quiet, wordless, self-contained joy, desiring nothing from without and resting content with everything, remains free of all egotistic likes and dislikes. In this freedom lies good fortune, because it harbors the quiet security of a heart fortified within itself.”

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